


Solace In Sand

by Banger1897



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Psychological Drama, Sexual Violence, Suspense, Violen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-13 08:37:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16889217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banger1897/pseuds/Banger1897
Summary: A brutish horde steered by a chauvinistic megalomaniac is reaping the wastelands capturing and enslaving all. Legion life proves to be merciless and cruel, filled with the trials of torture, senseless slaughter and countless atrocities. A pitiless life awaits unless one surrenders their liberties and embraces life under the tyrant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My loyal and amazing fans](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+loyal+and+amazing+fans).



**Author's Note: Thank you for taking an interest in my story. You may come across discrepancies between my work and canon dialogue and facts. In many cases I do this on purpose because a lot of what happens in my stories reflects how things are shaped in days to come. That's not to say I don't make mistakes now and then. Regardless, hope you all enjoy. This was originally started back in 2013. It's because of my loyal readers that I've been guided to post this story here. I hope more of your come to enjoy it. Please review!**

The year is 2250. A devastating force is rising, carving its way across the American southwest ushering in a new era of total war in attempts to unite the people beneath one banner. A man calling himself Caesar leads the enormous hoard of unrestrained men, like swarming beasts leaving behind a wake of destruction, violence and terror. After their parents along with the rest of their tribe is slaughtered, Athos and Aramis, the Chieftains children are taken to a place where they will need to embrace the ideologies of their aggressors as they age and grow or face a fate that only death would relieve them from.

Solace in Sand chronicles the Legion and its rise and development to be a formidable force in the American southwest. Read how things came to be. Where new and familiar characters got their start and how many will meet their end.

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SOLACE IN SAND

Chapter 1

A coyotes sorrowful yip called out in the night ushering its mate to the kill. Jaws snapped as meat tore from bone appealing to the insatiable appetite of the hunting pair. The moon was just a sliver in the dark ink sky, clouds of dust weaved in the air snuffing out the stars. The night air was cool, a welcoming change from the choking heat the day had brought in the harsh climate of the American Southwest.

Red rocks rose from the earth like pillars as if holding up the very sky. Deep fissures carved their way through the landscape, weaving through the densest of rock. The bottom of the deepest canyons saw no light of the sun and nothing grew at their depths.

It was a treacherous place to live but the hardened people who chose to inhabit the wastes here were a sturdy, rugged people who knew how to make the most of it. They called themselves the Painted Rock Tribe. Little was known of how they came to be, it was a time many chose to ignore and dismiss altogether. It wasn't until they began etching their stories on the walls of the chasm that enclosed their home that they began to illustrate their place in time.

Massive murals in deep black paint made of various materials one found in these parts decorated the stone walls of the canyon. Scenes of great hunts, hard winters and animals at play were breathtaking sights to the bold wanderer who found themselves so far from anything remotely civilized.

The Painted Rock Tribe were a peaceful group, respecting the life of all and raising families in a sheltered upbringing. They had simple ideologies and prospered because of wise decisions and skilled leadership. The Chieftain was the most skilled hunter and warrior. His job, like that of an Alpha male of a Deathclaw pack, was to simply protect his brood and raise his young. He took only one wife, the matriarch, and raised his children with those of the other families.

The terrain brought with it a sense of security. Little could bother them here apart from a bold raiding party or a feral creature, though nothing made any scar on the tribe.

Night was the calmest part of all in the camp. The only sounds from each household were the subtle breaths of sleeping children nestled in thick animal furs at their parents side while warming fires crackled in their hearth. Smoke carried up through the center opening in the ceiling of the tent. Embers crackled and flames licked up at the hazy sky. The wind had picked up blowing hard and slapping against the fabric of the tent where the Chieftain, his wife and two children no older than six, slept. Pages of a book that had been placed on the floor beside the bed flipped over and over in the breeze.

The peace and tranquility came to a halt when the cracking of guns caused everyone to rise.

The children, a boy and a girl, were just about flung from their bed when their father rose up suddenly and reached for the hunting rifle he always kept beside their bed. The man screamed something back to his wife, a word neither child understood that sounded like 'Legion,' before dashing out of the tent with his own rifle ready to meet the interlopers.

Their mother scooped each small child up under each arm and raced out of the tent before it burst into flames.

"My book!" The young girl cried out but her mother cut back.

"Keep quiet!" she ordered her children.

The night had come alive in a brilliant display of fire and carnage. Bodies littered the ground everywhere the woman stepped, their familiar faces staring up at the children but their eyes were vacant and lifeless. The woman stayed to the shadows moving from tent to tent. The children's eyes scanned the scene before them with immense interest.

"Shadows," the small boy whispered to his sister.

She gasped at the word her brother dared to speak.

Stories told around the campfires always warned the children of the dangerous creatures known as Shadows out in the wastes. They were monsters that hid in the dark and would take children away from parents and eat their toes, according to the adults. The stories were often so frightening that the Chieftain's children had taken to sleeping in their parents beds at night.

The young girl's eyes went wide with fear. Friends, family and neighbours all seemed to be fighting with the creatures known to the children as Shadows. It had to be Shadows. Nothing else would attack their village this late in the night.

Their mother continued to hurry from tent to tent until she entered the one furthest away from the ensuing battle. She placed the children down and extinguished the small torch that had been burning inside.

"Athos! Listen to me!" the woman barked turning her attention to the boy.

Athos, who had been trying to catch a glimpse at the commotion outside the tent felt a hand grab him by the shoulder, hooking into his muscle and yanking him back to face her.

"You will look after your sister! You wont let anything happen to her! Do you hear me?!"

Her tone was quick, harsh and desperate. Athos wondered if he was in some kind of trouble. She often reserved this kind of voice for moments when he had displeased her.

His eyes flashed to the young girl beside him, his sister, who reached for her brother's hand and squeezed it tightly. Athos looked back to his mother when she knelt at the feet of her two children and pulled their tiny bodies close to her own. Athos felt his mother's breath on his neck and her tears on his cheeks.

"Its okay mom. Shadows can't get children who are with their parents," Athos assured her.

Her eyes welt with tears as her face turned splotchy. He barely recognized the once kind, softened features of his mother.

The glow of the fires outside cast an eerie light in the tent. Their shadows danced on the animal skin walls. In that moment, his mother's words drowned out the screams coming from outside.

"I love you so much but I wont be with you any longer. You need to grow up now, children. Be brave and be strong. Always be there for each other most of all," she told them.

Athos couldn't explain what was taking place.

His mother spoke to them like this was the last time she ever would. Her voice carried just above a whisper and her words turned to quiet sobs. 'Why was she so upset?' Athos thought. Papa had always said the ones thing the Shadows feared were himself and now he was out there protecting the tribe from the crazed creatures. Everything would be alright.

"Be strong my children. Be brave. No matter what happens I will always love you. You have each other. So long as you have the other, nothing can hurt you," she told them again.

Athos watched as his mother took her small carving knife she used every day to prepare meals for the tribe in her hand. He thought she was going to hurt his sister when his mother brought the knife to the little girl's head but instead; she began to cut the child's hair.

The small girl winced.

"Mama it hurts!" she cried but their mother continued to hack at the girl's long, sleek hair.

It took a few seconds but when the woman was finished, his sister was unrecognizable with messy short dirty blonde hair. Their mother whisked off the girl's clothes and tossed her in something similar to her brothers.

"From now on, you're a boy, do you hear me? Athos, you're to call her Aramis," she explained.

"Like the book you read us?" Athos asked. His mother smiled.

"Yes, like in the book. Just like your name," she explained with tear filled eyes.

"Why am I a boy?" Aramis asked.

Their mother looked cold and stoic.

"My dear, if anyone finds out you're a girl, they will kill you," she exaggerated. She knew the real threat that followed her daughter. A life of slavery, and reproduction; hardships no woman should bare."You're strong my daughter. I have taught you all I can to prepare you for this. You have your brother. He will make sure you behave properly, wont you Athos?" she asked.

The young boy nodded curtly.

She was so proud of them. She prayed she had made them strong enough to face what lay ahead.

"Now, stay here no matter what you hear outside. When everything is quiet, you may come out, but only when it is quiet."

"Why are you scared, Mommy?" Aramis' soft and gentle voice asked.

"I'm not sweetie. There's nothing to fear," the woman lied but kept a caring smile glued to her face.

The two children, confused by the events of the night, simply nodded in unison and stared doe eyed at their mother. After one last rib-crushing embrace, their mother left the tent shutting the Brahmin skin flap behind her keeping the images outside a secret to curious eyes inside.

Still, they did as their mother instructed. Even as the screams grew louder and the heat from the fires began to make the tent uncomfortable for them to remain, they did as they were told. If they didn't, mother would be furious and the consequences of disobeying would be worse then the heat.

After many hours things began to quiet and the light of the fires was replaced by the light of day. Suddenly the flap of the tent was pushed aside and a strange figure stood before the children. He was tall, brawny and a stranger in the children's eyes. Thick leather armour hugged each defined muscle. He was unlike anything they had ever seen but there was still a sense of familiarity. The man wore brilliant red and gold fabric that many would mock as a dress, but they knew better. Their mother had read them stories, so many stories of men in armour much like his: Knights, Gladiators, Heroes of their dreams. This man wasn't the scary, monstrous Shadows they had been warned about time and time again.

The children stood very still even as the man came closer. He filled the tent with the aroma of a burnt campfire. The sweat on his skin glistened in the early morning light. A bandana covered his mouth and the lack of compassionate smile when he saw the two children. Dark goggles covered his inquisitive eyes that sized up each small body in front of him. He wore a rather unusual helmet that plumed black feather around the top. A large scar carved down his left arm trailing from his shoulder right down to his wrist. It must have been a very large cut and Athos wondered how many Brahmin skin bandaids were needed to heal something like that.

"Hmmmm," he mumbled as he folded his arms across his chest. "This should be interesting," he concluded without indicating what had just occurred in his head. "Come with me."

Without delay, the children followed the man out of the tent. When they emerged, they saw the outcome of what had happened last night. The men in armour were piling the dead bodies in the center of the children's camp. The pile burned, competing with the morning desert sun in its brilliance. The smell was atrocious, stinging at Athos' eyes and nose that he brought up his hand to try and shield his senses from the odour.

"Get your hand down!" the man with the scar barked.

Athos' arm dropped to his side and he grimaced as the smell stung once more.

Large wooden structures were being erected throughout the camp. They looked like ritual monuments much like their tribe marked the graves of those who had passed but these were much larger. Upon closer inspection Athos could see people were tied to the large structures. What was the purpose of this, he wondered innocently.

The two children gathered in a small group of other children from their tribe. Some were older, others younger but all carried the same worried expression. Two young girls, sisters, were crying for their mother. Athos didn't cry. He and his sister were raised to be brave. They were the Chief's children. They had to be brave according to their father.

"Boys on this side, girls on the other," the man with the scar on his arm ordered.

Athos began to move to the indicated direction when he noticed his sister waver. He grabbed her arm and the two moved towards the boy's side. Several other armoured men gathered around. There was no mistaking these men all belonged to the same tribe but not all wore the same style of armour. Some were much more elaborate then others. Athos liked the fancy style like the man with the scar wore.

The man with the scar was joined by another dressed in the same manner. This armoured man was just as brawny as his counterpart. Athos noted an interesting mark seared into the flesh of this man. Athos couldn't tell what it was meant to be but, like the man with the scar, the healed wound looked like it had hurt. The pair moved through the collection of boys with masked eyes scanning each fragile figure.

The one with the mark on his wrist stopped and examined the Chief's children. Both hard the same dark grey eyes. Them of them had dirty blonde hair, messy and uneven. Dirt and soot covered their small faces.

"This is different," he exclaimed.

"The twins? I know," his counterpart replied.

It was true, the children were identical twins despite the gender difference. There was no mistaking the resemblance but Athos was slightly bigger than his sister. At the young age of six, the difference was barely detectable.

It wasn't uncommon for people to be in awe of the Chief's children. According to their mother, most twins died during childbirth. Something about the poor maternal conditions amongst the tribes made infant death almost certain. The children's mother was resilient; there was no doubt about that. She survived the childbirth and reared her children because, in her words, "she was their mother. No one else was going to be."

The man with the mark on his wrist continued to move through the group and nodded with approval.

"This group looks strong. Caesar will be pleased with the new Captures he concluded.

The man with the scar crossed his arms.

"Yeah, well, we'll see how many make it through the march back to camp," he replied with a twisted grin hidden behind his mask.

The children were formed into two rows. There were eleven in total. Athos and Aramis lucked out to be beside one another. There was no mention of parents or any other concerns or complaints. The children of the tribe, always taught discipline and respect for elders began to march just as they were told to an unknown destination.

"There will be no talking." the man with the mark on his wrist began his lecture. "We're three days walk from camp. We will walk mostly at night and early morning and rest during the hottest part of the day. If you fall behind, no one will pick you up and carry you. You will be left behind for the Radscorpions and crows to pick your bones clean. Each of you will be given one bottle of purified water per day. Ration your water or you will die."

Some of the older kids were nodding in understanding. Athos and Aramis nodded simply because the others were.

Aramis looked out into the desert. How could they possibly know where to go. Occasionally she had been allowed to venture off and explore the tops of the dunes that surrounded their camp and from her account; there was nothing out there. She didn't know how Papa always managed to go out there and come home with food. The land was barren.

The first few hours weren't too bad. The adrenaline from fear lasted quite some time but as the distance from home increased and their feet began to ache, the groaning and the sighing commenced.

Athos and Aramis stole a glance at one another when they felt it safe to do for peace of mind the other was still holding in there. Aramis would smile at her brother who would smile back.

Athos had to admit this was a little exciting. They had never been so far from home. After several hours every dune looked the same. The horizon never seemed to get closer. The heat was getting intense and their muscle ached with each quick stride. The older kids set the pace letting their longer legs carry them forward while the younger ones were forced to trot along side. The pace was difficult and many were evidently struggling.

The first one to drop was a very young boy. It looked as though he tripped but when he fell, he couldn't get himself up. He began to cry and some of the children, including Aramis and Athos looked back at him with worry.

"Get up," Aramis whispered to herself but the boy did not get up. None of the men even glanced at the boy calling for help with outstretched arms. Every one of them kept walking until they had all passed the boy. After a few long minutes the boy simply disappeared from sight. Gone forever, swallowed by desert.

The two young girls that had been crying before started to cry again. At first their muffed sobs were only audible to the other children but eventually the armoured men heard their hysterics.

"Shut up or we'll make you shut up!" one of the men yelled from the back of the group.

This only worsened the cries of the two girls.

"I said shut up!" the man roared.

"Quiet!" whispered the oldest youth in the group. He was a strong looking boy. Athos often saw him go out with his own father on the hunts learning the ways of the tribe. Athos didn't know the boys name but he felt intimidated by him. The older boy seemed to always been scowling. His dark brown hair hung just over his eyes and he had already gotten the Tribes tattoo on his neck - a sign he had to be older than twelve.

The young girls began to sniffle but they managed to control their sobbing.

The rest of the day's march was uneventful. No one else fell and the group was silent. Most of them had drank all of their water by the time they stopped to rest when the sun was at its highest.

There was no shade. The men rolled out padding and lay without complaint while a few stood watch. The children had no such luxury as a pad. The sand was burning hot so lying down wasn't an option.

Worry set in again. If they couldn't rest, they would surely not make it to the unknown destination.

Athos bent down in place and began to dig. The top layer of sand burned at the flesh of his hands but eventually the cool moist sand below came through. Other children began to follow his lead. His father had taught him this trick when he began his training as a hunter. He may have been young but Athos was quick to pick up on his Father's tactics.

Eventually the children all had a cool spot for them to lie down and try to get some sleep. The sun was blistering hot and finding sleep didn't come easy. After what seemed like too few hours, the men woke the children and ready them for the next day's march. Water was replenished and the march continued.

The setting sun made the walk much more bearable but when the sun disappeared over the dunes; the air became so cold that the children began to shiver. None of them were dressed for the cold nights of the desert. All in the group could hear the chattering of teeth. Their captures showed no mercy and offered no protection from the harsh cold that nipped to the bone.

Quickening the pace didn't help the situation either. Exhaustion was the worst enemy by far. No matter how fast they traveled, something tore away at their life be it the cold or fatigue. There was no balance.

The rising sun offered a bittersweet relief. The temperature would be more bearable but in time the children knew the day would be scorching their skin once more. What made things worse, nearly all of them had drank their water already. As the hours went on the day grew hotter and hotter.

Athos looked to his sister who displayed a uneasy fear that he shared deep within. He always put on the tough act even if he struggled on the inside for her. He looked from her to the remainder of the children. The group started to look weak. Children were tripping more frequently. They had all gotten up again but it was getting more difficult, that was for sure.

As the group marched, one of the sisters who had been crying early on fell. She was the younger one. There was no crying or call for help she simply fell and lay face down in the sand. Her older sister knelt beside her and tried to hoist her to her feet but the child didn't move. The older sister began to cry and shout at her sibling to get up but still the child lay motionless. The younger girl had been over exerted and her body couldn't take any more abuse. It quit on her allowing her to slip into death quickly and without any more pain. The older sister knew she had lost the one person she was always told to protect. Athos had to give the older girl credit when the she left her sister's side and ran to catch up with the rest of the group ...the older sister simply whimpered, wiped the tears from her eyes and got back in formation.

Athos glanced at the girl. The older sister had long wavy blonde hair tinted with streaks of copper. She was a pretty girl of maybe ten. Athos was bad at guessing ages. The girl was slender but not malnourished. She let her eyes wander to Athos. Soft blue eyes filled with tears. Athos smiled but the girl just let her attention fall back to the ground.

Athos didn't know the sisters very well. He didn't know many of the children very well. Being the Chieftain's children meant their life was controlled from day one. Everything was a structured lesson to groom them for leadership especially Athos. He got it the worst from Papa.

"One day you will lead this people, my boy!" were the words Papa always spoke. Words meant to encourage Athos to try harder. Aramis was a little more fortunate. Women were the providers and nurturers. Aramis was taught to cook, heal the sick and wounded and tend to the people as an ambassador for the Chief. Still, her mother was not without her secret lessons.

Aramis' mothers had not been from their own tribe. Their Papa had won a great battle against a rival tribe and as a sign of mending the tribes, took the daughter of the other tribes now deceased Chieftain as his bride.

The rival tribe had been known to be great warriors. Not just the men but also the women as well, a trait the children's mother carried with her in her new life. It may not have been a loving partnership at first according to the children's mother but in time she grew to love and care for her husband and soon they were blessed with the twins.

Their mother refused to let Aramis grow up knowing only how to be an obedient wife. Even at six, Aramis had been taught to trap game using snares and make ammunition. Being able to shoot was a very well kept secret between her and her mother but Aramis had told Athos in confidence. Aramis may not have been very old but she was keen to learn everything her mother taught her and relished in the opportunity to have skills beyond the typical woman in their tribe. For that, Athos knew she would be all right.

"You'll be a beautiful girl one day. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't teach my daughter to fight off the boys," Athos' mother often teased Aramis during their many lessons while Papa was off hunting or planning a future battle leaving Athos to play man of the house.

The thought of his mother carried Athos during the difficult trek across the desert. As the day grew longer the wind began to pick up tossing sand around like millions of stinging needles against their exposed skin. The next few hours saw the loss of a couple more children. They'd fall only to be buried by the blowing sand within seconds. No one was getting up anymore.

By the time they stopped to rest, nearly half their numbers were buried somewhere out in the desert. This time the group huddled in closely to try and shield one another from the pelting sand. None of them spoke or cried. They were much too tired to waste energy on anything. If they lay down, they knew they wouldn't be getting up so they sat back to back to keep themselves propped up the same way the guards were.

Even with the howling winds and sandblasting, every one of them managed to fall asleep. By the time they were woken up again by the shouts of their captors, the wind had died down and the march carried on. The falling sun meant another cold night would soon be upon them.

This night was worse then the one before it perhaps because their bodies were ravaged by exposure and exhaustion. The night claimed another child leaving just Aramis, Athos, the older girl, the oldest boy and one other boy younger than all of them. Five in total.

Athos was surprised the smallest boy had made it. He was small - smaller than most boys his age. He had a twitch about him like he was just trying to match what every anyone else was doing without thinking about it. His little legs moved at a pace quicker than anyone else and yes he conserved his water best and seemed to have no issues keeping the pace.

When the sun crested the horizon, painting the desert sky in brilliant blues, purples, pinks and oranges, the children knew they were nearly there.

"Just a few more hours," a man called out.

This news brought with it a wave of hope than they had nearly done it. They were going to make it.

Sure enough something appeared on the horizon. At first it as just a speck but then it grew larger. Flags blowing high atop masts stood out like beacons. Large walls were now visible and spread a great distance across the desert encapsulating their salvation.

Athos could see even their captors were dragging their feet towards deliverance.

Finally they were nearly there. He wondered what was on the other side of those walls. What kind of life awaited them now? A slight glimmer of excitement lingered in his mind and he found himself smiling slightly.

As the large gates swung open and beckoned the children in, Athos saw this place was no oasis in the desert.


	2. Chapter 2

"Move it!" came the harsh commands of the children's captors.

As Athos entered beneath the gate, ordained with bleached white bones of all kinds of creatures that stretched across the only entrance to the camp, he marvelled at the sheer size of it. It appeared to be a massive circle. In the centre of the camp, a small crater surrounded by misshapen plates of wood and metal caught his attention. Broken bottles lay around the inner edge of the makeshift arena punishing any that allowed himself to be driven back by his opponent. The sand within was stained a dark tarry brown where blood had dried under the desert sun.

Athos tilted his head observing the paintings on the outside of the circular structure. Images of men clashing in ferocious combat covered the rusted metal immortalizing the fighters at their moment of glory. Much of the paint appeared weathered and chipped and Athos noted its unusual pigment matched the tinge of brown in the sand within the arena.

Tents of various sizes seemed scattered throughout the camp like poorly positioned checker pieces. Regardless of size or quality of canvas, each tent had a weapons rack full of various objects of death housed in their locks.

The camp smelled like excrement. Animal carcasses lay hung by their haunches draining their fluid and coating the sand beneath. Scrawny women in tattered rags tended to the hanging beasts carving the flesh and putting the meat into large soaked through sacks. Flies buzzed around their faces and the flesh of the slain creatures. Athos watched in disgust as a slave woman cut into the meat and from where her knife passed, maggots appeared, oozing out of the animals rotting orifices.

The large banners that waved in the wind that had played beacon to the children displayed the silhouette of a gold bull. Athos had never seen the image before. He wondered what the meaning of it was.

Men in armour similar to the children's escorts moved through the camp ignoring the group that had just been led in. Athos spun around when a large /THUD/ resonated behind him. The gates had now been firmly closed. Two armed men stood on either side of the gate like stone soldiers. Beside each of them, ill-tempered dogs stood looking as though they'd spring lose at any second and come charging towards the children ready to tear flesh from bone. Despite the twitch in the dog's lips, they remained fixed in place letting their sunken yellow eyes and stained teeth do the antagonizing for them.

The children were brought to stand just a few feet short of the gate. The man with the burn scar on his wrist stepped forward to address the group.

"My name is Prime Decanus Wynn. Welcome to Fort Munda. Here, you will begin your new life under the command of the almighty Caesar. Most of you will probably die as slaves but perhaps a couple of you have what it takes to join Caesar's fighting ranks as Legionaries," Wynn explained. He moved back and forth in front of the group never looking up at them as he spoke.

"You're not to think of your families back home. This is your home. The Legion is your family. I know you are hungry and tired but complaining won't get you far in this place in fact, it may just get you killed," Wynn went on. "You have made it this far. With obedience, determination loyalty and strength you may just survive your lifetime here."

He gave a slight chuckle before continuing.

"...However long that might be," he mocked now looking at the children directly with an unsettling grin. "I will now hand you over to Veteran Decanus, Sipher who will explain where you will go from here."

The man with the large scar down his arm now stepped out.

"First of all, I will explain the layout of the camp. I'm sure you all noticed our arena. Only the strongest men dare to fight in it. It doesn't matter how many go in cause only one comes out. The rest paint the ground with their blood and leave this world in dishonour. To the West, you'll see rows of tents. This is the living quarters for Legion Infantry. The East part of the camp is the slave's accommodations. The North end of the camp is where you'll find the living quarters for the highest members of Caesars' Legion as well as the Headquarters. Everything in the South end is dedicated to training except the mess tent, which is next to the arena there."

The children all seemed to be staring off at varying locations. None of them had been able to follow the directions. This place was more confusing than a story told by the tribes elder with the most severe case of dementia.

"I will now separate you into your factions," Sipher went on. "All males to my left, females to my right," he demanded.

This time Aramis moved with her brother to the left side. Athos wondered what they would do if they saw through her disguise. The older boy from their tribe knew all too well she was a female but didn't speak out and the youngest boy was too young to know her at all. The older girl who had lost her sister stood alone silently. Even she did not speak out about Aramis' true place beside her.

"Take the girl, show her to the others," Sipher ordered back to another Legionary behind him. With that, she was led away from the group and disappeared into the maze of tents.

The boys and Aramis stood waiting for the next command.

"You boys will now join the other group of boys we've brought in over the last couple weeks," Sipher announced. "You're now children of the Legion. Train hard and one day, when you come of age, you will join the ranks as recruits," Sipher told them.

Sipher led the group down a small embankment towards the South end of the camp. Aramis and the boys kept their heads down as they passed other men in patchwork armour.

The trail they walked was lined with large wooden structures like the ones being erected by the armoured men back home. On each wooden spike, a man or woman stood strapped, limbs splayed out, and skin baking in the sun. All their faces were gaunt and features sunken in.

Athos couldn't bring himself to look at the hanging bodies. Had this been the fate of her fellow tribes' people?

At the bottom of the embankment was a large tent with a much smaller arena marked out with large stones.

In the training area were two straw dummies on posts with angry faces painted on them. Various logs of different sizes lay scattered to one side with some very heavy looking chains. A weapons rack stood beside the dummies with small wooden swords, axes, spears and clubs. A couple of wooden structures stood next to those with long metal bars crossing over. Someone was using this piece of equipment.

A boy, perhaps fourteen or so was holding onto the bar and pulling himself up then letting himself hang and repeating the process. Athos counted, 9 … 10 … 11 in the time he had watched. No doubt the boy was much higher than that.

"This will be your new home for the next while. For some, if could be longer," Wynn told Aramis and the other boys. "You will eat your meals, sleep, and train here. As I said, some of you will be recruited others will be slaves. The other boys you train with are not your comrades, not yet. Everyone is competing for a place in the ranks. You have no friends here; only competition and only the best will be taken. Don't forget that."

"Are these the new potential recruits?" came a deep voice from behind the children, startling them to turn suddenly. A young man dressed like no other among the men here stood with a hardened frown so close it made the children uncomfortable. They all seemed to bunch in a bit tighter and move away from him. How he had snuck up behind them without detection was alarming. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans ripped in the knees and a white collared shirt rolled up to the elbows. A black tactical vest clung to his chest full of various kind of ammunition. There was something tucked into his left breast pocket of the tactical vest that Aramis noted was a book of some kind. Odd thing to carry in a tactical vest.

The men in armour all snapped to attention when the stranger appeared before them.

"Ita vero, my Legate," Sipher spoke with a detectable tremble in his voice.

"I simple 'yes' would have been just fine," the Legate muttered under his breath.

The Legate looked down at the terrified children with calculating eyes. He was young looking, had to be in his early twenties. He was a handsome man with dark well-groomed hair parted neatly down the side. His pale blue eyes like pure ice were striking and captivating but the way he looked at Athos made him cringe like he was weighing his worthiness to live. Even the flash of his twisted smile as he looked at each individual child didn't bring a sense of ease to any from what Athos could see. This man was unemotional and callous. They could all see that.

"I look forward to seeing their progress," the Legate added turning his attention back to his own men. "What tribe are they from?"

"Painted Rock, my Legate," Sipher responded quickly.

"Your first successful attack as a Veteran Decanus, am I right Sipher?" The Legate asked.

"Yes, my Legate," Sipher replied with a stern nod.

"I hear Caesar was pleased with the assault. How many did you slay?"

"All the men and women, as ordered. Caesar told us to leave no one over the age of sixteen alive," Sipher answered seeming to boast the accomplishment.

Hearing that, Athos and the children all looked to Sipher with disbelief. Could it be true? Was everyone dead? Why did they attack their tribe? Who were these men? Athos thought.

Athos glanced over seeing Aramis and the youngest boy had tears well in their eyes and suddenly he too saw the world become blurry behind a wall of tears. The oldest boy among them placed a hand on Athos' shoulder. This did little to comfort him but it did keep the tears from falling down his face. Aramis and the youngest boy on the other hand couldn't contain their tears.

The Legate's unnerving smile played on his face as he turned back to the children.

"Does this upset you? To know how your families all died? Have you not been told who your new family is yet?" the Legate asked nonchalantly. "This will be the last time you shed tears. If you have a problem keeping this promise, we will burn out your eyes. Am I understood?" the Legate questioned.

The children nodded slowly.

"Around here, you will respond with 'yes, my Legate.' Is that understood?" he asked.

"Yes, my Legate," the children spoke in unison.

Never before had Athos been so frightened. He wanted to run far away from this place but he knew even in his young, inexperienced years that he wouldn't survive out in the desert alone. Then there was Aramis. What would he do without her? The children had promised their mother to look out for one another. Athos wouldn't break his promise.

"As you were, Sipher but I expect these recruits to be well-informed about who's who around here, do you hear me?"

"Ita vero, my Legate," Sipher replied.

With that, the man in the strange clothing they called Legate left. When he was out of sight Sipher broke from his statue-like form and addressed the Painted Rock children.

"That children, was the Malpais Legate, Joshua Graham. He is Caesar's Second in Command."

Sipher grunted and gave a slight chuckle.

"The Tribes out in the wastes call him the unkillable man. That could be the last time in years you ever have the privilege to hear his words. Should he ever come and watch you train, you better impress cause it will be his orders that will have you're head put on a spike," Sipher warned with a twisted grin like he enjoyed the thought.

The children all shuddered.

Surely the Decanus was exaggerating, right? Athos thought.

They were led into the large tent filled with cots. A large rectangular dining table and a cooking fire were in the centre. Other boys were scattered throughout the tent busily carving weapons out of wood or patching their armoured cuirasses. The boys aged from younger than the twins to older than the boy who had been pulling himself up on the contraption outside. Athos counted about nine. With them, it made thirteen total.

Leaning against a large beam at the side of the tent was a very large man, the largest any of the children had seen since they got here. His head was shaved right down so it looked as though bits of sand were glued to his head. The hair that should have been on his head grew thickly on his chin, flecked with red but mostly a dark brown. His eyes were slender and fixed on the children brought into his tent. His ears looked abnormally puffy and deformed. Every muscle on this man's gigantic body looked as though it would burst through his skin at any moment. His armoured cuirass looked like as though it barely fit him.

The large man moved off the post and began to walk towards the new children. With every step, he jerked forward catching himself with his left leg. As he came closer the children could see why. There was something wrong with the man's right knee. It was bent awkwardly and the skin around it looked mangled … perhaps an old battle injury.

"Here's your new ones, Lion," Sipher told the large man.

When the man looked to the children and smiled, they could see why he was called Lion. His canine teeth had been filed at so they elongated and sharper than normal. His size was a dead giveaway as well. He had to be nearly seven feet tall and hovering around 300lbs.

He looked like the type of man who belonged in the arena pummeling his foes into submission with his bare hands before devouring their flesh as sustenance. Athos almost felt bad for the man as he hobbled across the room like a prized animal put out to pasture after retirement. The unwavering scowl on the man's face screamed resentment for his injury and the position it left him with.

"This is it then?" Lion asked.

Sipher nodded.

"I'll take it from here, Sipher," Lion told the Decanus. Sipher simply turned on his heel and left the tent without a goodbye. Athos was almost sad to see him go. Was he seriously leaving the Painted Rock children with this … beast?

Lion looked to the children once more and raised a brow. His stare hovered for a few seconds and the children wondered what he was looking at so intensely.

"Aye! Find an empty bunk and sit on it. Stay here while I get some supplies from the QM. You'll be starting on your armour right away. I expect you to have something finished by the morning. Even if we're using wood, you'll want something to protect your ass," Lion explained as he limped from the tent.

The Painted Rock children looked at the other boys all staring them down. There were no welcoming faces or smiles. Athos and Aramis began to walk slowly towards a set of free bunks side by side one another. No one said a word. They each sat down on a bunk and looked for the others from their tribe. The youngest boy had found a spot in the far corner while the older was right in the middle.

The other boys in the tent went back to their tasks like nothing had disrupted. It wasn't long before Lion shuffled his way back into the tent.

"Come and get this shit," Lion ordered. The Painted Rock children got up and collected the material to build their armour from him.

Lion handed them bits of leather and metal of various sizes and shapes. The boys looked confused but Aramis appeared excited. Being a female in the tribe meant it was your job to mend the tents and make clothes. Her mother, despite the unusual lessons, taught her the necessary ones too. She sat on her bunk and began to stitch away. Athos kept glancing over his shoulder at his sister to copy what she was doing.

The tent was eerily quiet with all the boys working away. Towards the late afternoon, Lion ordered the other boys out of the tent for a lesson and told the Painted Rock children to keep working on their armour.

The four children took the unsupervised opportunity to finally get their thoughts across.

"What are your names?" the older boy asked.

Athos, Aramis and the youngest boy all looked up from their work. None of them looked confident to speak first but it was Athos who took the chance.

"Athos," he muttered and looked to Aramis.

"Aramis," she spoke up after her brother.

"Zen," the youngest boy followed.

"I'm Reed," the older boy spoke in a whisper his eyes locked on Aramis. "Your mother was very smart to do what she did," he added.

"Shhh. We're not supposed to talk about it!" Athos defended in a forced whisper.

"It's ok, I won't tell," Reed assured him.

Zen looked on confused but dismissed the awkward conversation seeming to accept it as being big kid talk.

"Are we going to go home?" Zen asked. By the tone of his voice, it was clear he was getting choked up again.

"This is our home now," Reed said harshly.

The tent went quiet.

"We need to stick together. The other boys here will try to single us out," Reed then spoke up.

Athos and Aramis looked up confused.

"They scare me," Aramis murmured.

"Don't be scared of them. How old are you two?" Reed asked.

"Almost seven," Athos informed.

"And you?" Reed gestured towards Zen.

Zen held up all five fingers on his right hand.

"I'm thirteen so I'll watch out for you," Reed proclaimed with a kind smile that comforted Athos slightly.

"I want Mommy and Papa," Aramis spoke softly under her breath as her eyes fell back to her work. Athos didn't know how to comfort his sister. He looked to Reed who seemed to have a response to everything.

Reed took a deep breath. Surely he knew the other younger kids were far too young to fully grasp the situation they were in. Still, he had to try and be honest with them.

"You're not going to see your parents again but don't worry. We have each other," he assured them. "You're pretty good at making clothes, Aramis. Maybe you should be stitching all of ours," he joked.

Aramis grinned with a full white set of tiny baby teeth. She seemed pleased with the compliment and recognition for her talent.

Zen was struggling with his armour. He seemed to just be sewing pieces together with no thought. Suddenly Reed stood up. He looked around and hurried over to Zen. He placed the armour he had been working on in Zen's hands and took Zen's work away from him.

"Here, I was making yours the whole time. I'll fix what you've done here," Reed explained. Zen looked relieved with the help.

"I can help," Aramis spoke up.

"If you can make sure all our seams are tight afterwards, that would be great," Reed suggested. Aramis nodded excitedly. Athos could tell she liked Reed. He was smart, helpful and kind. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad here with Reed watching out for them.

No one came to check on the children once during the day. As the natural light from the sun began to dim the other boys returned from the days training.

The entire tent took on a musty smell from the sweat on their bodies. Lion followed the group. He looked at the Painted Rock children still working away on their armour. They seemed to be doing just fine. This pleased him.

"Huck, Titus, go pick up dinner tonight," Lion barked from across the room. Two boys got up instantly and rushed out of the tent. The other boys all began to sit at the large rectangular table in an orderly fashion.

The Painted Rock children didn't dare to move from their bunks.

"Do you need a private invite? Get your bony asses over here!" Lion beckoned to them.

The Painted Rock children looked around the table for room to sit. Surprisingly the boys shuffled down to make room for the new arrivals. The Painted Rock children took a seat and looked around at all the faces staring at them.

"What are your names?" Lion asked as he remained standing leaning up against a post nearby.

None of the children spoke. Lion rolled his eyes.

"You there, " he said pointing to Reed. "Name."

"Reed," the boy called out.

"Twins?" Lion asked.

"Athos and Aramis," Reed went on.

"And the little one?"

"Zen," Reed finished.

Lion seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"That'll do I suppose," he mumbled.

The two boys then returned with dinner in two large metal bins. Athos looked around the table. No one seemed too excited about dinner and when the bins were placed down in front of the children, he could see why. Dinner looked like the remnants of whatever was made in the last 2 day thrown into a goulash.

Athos knew he was starving but recalled seeing the meat the woman had been carving when they entered the camp and the maggots that fell from the carcass. Suddenly, he felt his hunger vanish.

"Aye, get it in you," Lion mumbled. The oldest boy stood up with a large wooden spoon in hand and began to serve out the dinner on makeshift plates. Aramis was eating off a license plate from an old car where Reed and Zen both had hubcaps. Athos just kept passing his along until he was forced to have a meal in front of him.

No one spoke during dinner. Lion chose to eat his meal standing up. Athos wondered if his knee prevented him from sitting down. When dinner was over, the same two boys who had gotten dinner cleared all the plates. When they were done, they were permitted to continue working on improving weapons and armour.

Lion seemed to have the children completely obedient and following a preset routine because he never had to speak a word before the boys were on the next thing like it was purely instinct. The sun was now barely a sliver on the horizon when the massive fire in the centre was lit along with some small torches along the perimeter of the tent that gave off enough light for the children to continue their work.

It was so quiet in the tent that Athos could hear coyotes out in the desert howling to their pack mates to begin the night hunt. A small smile traced its way onto his face. He looked across the room to see Zen and Reed working away at their armour. They seemed to be doing all right. Reed was nearly complete his and so was Zen undoubtedly due to Reed's assistance. Athos' armour was pretty impressive but it was Aramis whose armour was the best by far, even some of the older boys raised an impressed brow when they noticed what she had created.

Lion hobbled through the room checking on progress. He stopped at the foot of Aramis' bed noticing the impressive armour for someone as small and young such as she. Aramis didn't dare look up at him. Athos could tell he frightened her so much. Lion didn't say a single word and moved on to observe the others.

The Painted Rock children had finished the armour and were trying to look busy when Lion's voice carried through the room.

"Bed!" he ordered with arms folded across his chest.

Every boy put his things away in the footlocker at the foot of his bed and nestled into a mangy fur on their cots.

Lion stood poised in the very centre of the room where his own bed lay nearest to the fire and said,

"Get a good night sleep new blood. Tomorrow, your new life here really begins."


	3. Chapter 3

The false light of the moon still shone through the many holes in the tent when the disgruntled hollering of Lion's voice carried through the tent. Aramis shot up in her cot looking around frantically for the imminent danger that must have brought forth such a dramatic episode. The dim light of the torches and centerfire provided enough light for her to register that nothing was wrong, so why the yelling? The other boys were climbing out of their cots and putting on their armour and boots without uttering a sound. Aramis looked to Athos who was following the lead of the others boys. Aramis shadowed without question.

As each one dressed they rushed outside the tent into the frigid desert night air. The moon appeared so low in the sky that it looked as though it touched the horizon. A couple stars flickered in place while most remained forever hidden from sight due to the vast amount of atmospheric pollution and cosmic debris.

The boys were lined up in a single row waiting patiently for some unknown event to occur. Aramis looked down the row. Each boy stood perfectly straight with eyes forward. She did her best to mimic the presentation.

Lion appeared before the group.

"Marcus, the long route this morning. Leave the ones that fall behind. Keep the pace quick," Lion directed.

"Yes, Instructor," the boy called Marcus responded curtly. The boy looked the oldest within the group. His thick dark hair cut short and matted with dirt and grime. He wasn't an attractive boy but not unattractive either. He was somewhat plain and average height with no offsetting features. Regardless of his mediocre appearance, the boy was clearly the senior of the group and therefore carried the weight of responsibility for the others.

The boys all turned and began to run in single file up the embankment. The Painted Rock children followed in their respective places within the line. The pace was quick, too quick for Aramis to keep at it long. The boys from her tribe appeared to have no issues at all. It wasn't fair that from the time they were able to walk, they used to long journeys with the other men of the tribe as they trekked off to hunt for days at a time.

Aramis could feel her muscles begging her to stop. The oldest boy setting the pace took one large stride for every two of hers it seemed. She wouldn't be able to hold out for long.

Aramis looked up from her dragging feet to see Athos looking back at her. The frown on his face indicated his distress for her ability to keep up with the group. This made her angry. She wanted to prove to her brother she wasn't the weak link of the two of them. Even little Zen was having no issues keeping up. Her breathing increased dramatically as she tried to suck in enough air to perfuse her tissues and keep going. It seemed like hours had passed when it had really been about thirty minutes of running.

The route was indeed long. They circled the entire perimeter of the camp along the inside of the walls that protected it. They zigzagged through tents and various areas of the camp. At one point they went through the slaves quarters and Aramis saw the girl from their tribe bent over a fire pit trying to get the fire going.

The girl looked up when the group ran by. When she saw Aramis she smiled. Aramis tried to return the smile but any muscle used for anything other than running would be a waste of much-needed nutrients needed to keep her legs going. The girl now wore a tattered set of rags as clothing. A strange collar had been placed around her neck. Aramis had never seen such a contraption. As the group ran on the girl went back to work. Aramis wondered if she would have been better off being a girl after all. The girl didn't seem to have it too bad – at least she wasn't running for any apparent reason.

The sun was beginning to peak up and crest over the walls of the camp. It warmed the children's skin, not that they needed it. None of them felt the cold morning air anymore. Many had broken into a heavy sweat.

At this point, Aramis felt her legs starting to give out. Her chest heaved and her sight began to get blurry. Her body had enough. It would shut itself down if she didn't stop willingly. She moved out of file and slowed herself down to a walk. No one looked back. They all continued running right by her without a single word of encouragement to try and get her to catch up again. Even Athos, who had looked back didn't stop. She didn't resent him for it. She knew he needed to look strong for the both of them.

By the time she hobbled back to their training area, the boys were already wiping off their sweat with damp towels and, redressing and setting the table for breakfast. No one uttered a word to her as she dragged herself into the tent and followed suit. Only Lion stood in the centre of the room with accusing eyes fixed on her exhausted form.

She felt immense disappointment in herself take over. She wanted to cry but knew that would only make things worse. She was a failure. No one would want to play with her or train with her. She was the weak one of the group and they all knew it.

She lumbered over to the table and helped get it ready for breakfast.

"Marcus, take Aramis to get the food," Lion ordered.

Marcus didn't scowl or appear angry that his partner was the weak one, which was a tad relieving for Aramis to see. He beckoned her to follow and the two made their way back up the embankment towards the mess tent.

"It gets easier," Marcus whispered to her.

"What?" she asked.

"The runs. You'll have no trouble in a week or two," he assured her.

Aramis felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to this boy and his simple words of encouragement. Perhaps the true Legionaries had been wrong in their explanation that she would not find friends among the other Legion Children.

"I never completed a run in my first month of being here," Marcus went on.

Aramis looked up at him and smiled warmly.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Almost seven," she replied.

"You and your brother are twins?"

She nodded.

"Seems like you both have very different strengths and weaknesses," he said keenly.

Aramis simply shrugged.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Fourteen," Marcus replied with a frown and a sigh.

"What's wrong?" Aramis questioned.

"At fifteen, you join the other Legionaries. Many don't survive their first year. In training, I'm the oldest and the best. What's that expression? Being a large fish in a small pond?"

Aramis didn't get the reference. What did he have to do with fish? What was a pond? She thought. Marcus went on.

"The other Legionaries will probably be really hard on me. There's a lot of hazing," he told her.

"What's hazing?"

"Initiation rituals. Degrading and demoralizing tasks that one has to perform in order to be accepted into the group."

"Like what?"

"No idea. Not looking forward to it."

"Why do we run?" Aramis asked trying to change the subject to something she could comprehend.

"Keeps us in shape."

"Why?"

"So we can fight longer."

"Fight who?"

"Our enemies."

"What enemies?"

"You ask a lot of question, huh?" Marcus accused teasingly.

"Mama says questions get answers and answers make you smart. Being smart …." Aramis tried but she was cut off.

"Don't mention parents around here. That will get you beaten," he explained.

"Ok…" Aramis mumbled feeling disheartened.

Marcus sighed.

"You have your brother though. You're lucky for that," he tried to cheer her up.

Aramis smiled. It had worked to some degree.

"He's a good brother," she informed.

Marcus smiled.

The two of them arrived at the mess tent. Trays of more disgusting food resembling some kind of sludge were waiting for them.

"Plain porridge. Tasty," Marcus mumbled with a great deal of sarcasm that Aramis didn't pick up on. How was something like this tasty? It looked disgusting!

They each carried a large tray back down the embankment.

"You all right with that?" Marcus asked.

"It's not too heavy," Aramis replied through deep breaths evidently struggling but refused to admit it.

Marcus just smirked.

"Just keep acting tough and you'll make it through this," he assured her. "It's in The Ditch where everyone is really assessing you anyways," he added.

"This Ditch?" she asked.

"It's what we call our little arena. The big one for the true gladiators is, The Crater. Ours is on a much smaller scale so calling it The Ditch was kind of just for fun. No one's ever died in The Ditch so don't worry. It's where we conduct most of our training," he informed.

"Like swords?!" she asked excitedly recalling the book her mother read her about the great French Musketeers from which her name derived. They were excellent sword fighters and she wished to follow in their legacy.

"Uh, no ... not really. Swords are a bit primitive. Not that we are using anything more advanced but they tend to be heavy and ineffective compared to some of the things we've mastered," Marcus explained.

"Like what?"

"I'm the best with throwing spears. As long as my opponent is far enough away, I'm a sniper with those things. At close range, I have my machete but I much rather take out my target from a distance then letting him get close," he told her.

Aramis appeared disappointed. Perhaps she wouldn't be a great sword fighter like her storybook heroes after all.

"What will I get?" she asked sweetly.

"I started off with just a small knife. You'll probably do so as well."

Aramis grunted. A knife? She'd used knives many times to help prepare meals. What was so good about a knife? Knives were boring. She wanted a sword!

"It's important you do well with hand to hand combat too. Holds, throws, grappling, it's all going to make you desired among the ranks of the Legion," Marcus described.

"Athos usually beats me up…." Aramis mumbled seeming dismayed about her abilities as a fighter.

"Well I'll teach you some things so you kick his ass," Marcus promised.

Aramis really liked Marcus. Like Reed, he was compassionate and seemed to genuinely care.

They entered the tent where everyone sat around the table waiting for their morning meal. Aramis knew they'd all be disappointed with it. As with dinner, the boys sat silently eating. When they were finished the plates were cleared and tidying commenced.

"Get your things in order and meet in The Ditch," Lion ordered as he moved outside and waited for the boys to join him.

The boys gathered their armour and custom weapons. They all hurried out of the tent and gathered in the small circular arena awaiting instruction. The Painted Rock children now resembled something that looked as though they belonged here. None of them had made any of their own weapons but their armour was impressive for a first try. Aramis' of course looked better than anyones.

"Jet, partner up with Aramis. Huck with Athos. Titus with Reed and Marcus with Zen," Lion began. The respective boys moved beside their partner for today.

"The rest of you go to any station and begin. You know what I want to see. The remaining boys moved off to the various exercise equipment situated around the arena. Those called out were left standing waiting to be told what to do next.

Athos looked to Huck and smirked. The boy did not return the gesture. Huck was perhaps the same age as Athos but slightly taller not that it gave him any advantages. Huck seemed annoyed with the partnership. There was no doubt in Aramis' mind that the boy had better things to do than play mentor for a new arrival but she knew her brother was tougher then he appeared. Their father had been training him from the start to one day lead the tribe.

Jet stood uncomfortably close to Aramis. There was a weird twitch about him. His eyes constantly scanned the area like he was under constant threat of attack. He had dark red straight cut hair and pale wild eyes that blinked more often than normal. He seemed to be tapping a beat on his leg while Lion talked.

Reed didn't look too impressed by his partner either and gave a half heartened smirk to Aramis who relished in their misery together and returned it.

Zen was lucky. He was with Marcus. Aramis was jealous knowing Marcus would be a fair and valuable partner to Zen. Maybe it was best Zen had a better tutor.

"Start light. Basic 1-2-3-4 combinations. Fists up," Lion began as he moved to get a better view of all of them. For some reason, he kept painfully bending down and picking up small rocks which he put in a small fabric pouch bag. What was the purpose of that?

The boys who had been here longer all turned to their Painted Rock partner with their fists over their faces. Aramis looked over her shoulder at Athos who shadowed his partner. Was that what they were supposed to do? Aramis raised her fists and squared off with Jet. Before she could react, his fist sailed through the air and struck her on the left side of the face. Down she went in the sand. Titus and Huck began to laugh but a sharp eye from Lion shut them up instantly.

"Get up!" Lion snarled and Aramis found out why he picked up rocks. The sharp sting hit her in the back of her leg like a dog bike. Her head zipped around to see Lion holding a second rock in his hand poised to whip it if she wasn't on her feet. She shot up and glared at him. He motioned for her to get her fists up. This time she wouldn't be caught off guard.

She turned back to Jet who had a confident, twitchy grin on his face. He threw another jab with his left but before it fully extended he changed hands and sent his right cross at her.

/WHACK/

Another clean hit that sent her down into the sand again.

/SNAP/

Another rock hit her this time on her back.

This was almost worse than the marching and definitely worse than the run. After two minutes her face hurt, her back hurt and her leg hurt. After another two minutes she'd have double the aches she did now if she didn't improve.

Athos and Reed were fairing well for their first tries. Stupid boys being trained to fight as they were trained to do everything cool since they were born. There was no way she was going to impress anyone with her sewing skills or her ability to read, write, and cook.

She looked over at Zen and Marcus who watched on sympathetically. Marcus was instructing Zen, not wailing on him. Wasn't Jet supposed to be doing the same with her?

The process repeated for another thirty minutes. Get up, get knocked down, get hit with a rock, stand up and do it all again. Aramis was literally peppered with bruises to her face and covering her body where the armour left her exposed. Frustration was getting the better of her. She wasn't getting better, in fact, she seemed to be getting worse.

Another knockdown.

She knew what was coming next.

But no, not this time.

She spun quickly and caught the rock Lion had whipped at her. Lion's eyes went wide noting the look of raw hostility on her face.

Aramis sat on the ground for a second longer watching the lesson between Marcus and Zen.

"1-Jab, 2-Cross, 3-Hook, 4-Cross. That's it, Zen. You're getting it," Marcus lectured.

Aramis stood up trying to think about the movements. She squared off with Jet but rather that anticipate an incoming hit, she sent one of her own at him. This seemed to catch Jet off guard because the fist contacted his nose sending blood to gush down his face. She dropped her fists in pleasant alarm. She had got him! He was bleeding! She did it, she thought triumphantly. The victory was short lived because the moment she dropped her arms, Jet sent a head-spinning uppercut to her side and followed it with a hook to her head. Down she went unable to breathe.

"Your brother really sucks at this," Huck mocked to Athos.

"Leave him alone," Athos snapped back defensively.

"He fights like a girl," Huck teased.

This sent Athos into a fit of rage. Before Huck could react, Athos lunged onto him sending them both into the sand with Huck pinned under Athos and his flying punches. Huck brought his hands up to his face to protect himself from the lashing. Everyone stopped to watch the explosive violence between the two boys.

Lion rolled his eyes resenting the fact he was forced to actually intervene and with one hand pulled Athos up into the air and off Huck, Athos' fists still striking the air hoping to get one last shot at the boy.

"That's enough, you," Lion muttered tossing Athos a good five feet away, Lion looked down at a cowering Huck who grimaced when Lion reached down and pulled the boy onto his feet.

"You're training. Not trying to kill each other! Not unless you're in that arena!" Lion roared pointing to the Arena at the top of the embankment. "I think that's enough hand to hand for one day. You all join the others at the equipment. I want to see bleeding blisters by the time the day is through, got it!?" he snapped angrily.

"Yes, Instructor," the children replied in unison.

"One more outburst. One more act of defiance and I'll make sure you're fed to the rest of us for dinner tonight! Then maybe we'll have a half decent meal with your fat, lazy asses!" he added with his voice increasing in annoyance.

The children spent the rest of the day doing squats with the heavy logs, pulling themselves up with the chin-up bars, dragging heavy rocks attached to ropes to either side of the arena and so many other brutal exercises designed to have them in the best shape possible.

They took a break in the afternoon to have a light lunch. They remained outside sitting in the sand as they ate. The Painted Rock children sat among one another, scarfing down their flatbread and peanut butter.

"Is this going to be every day?" Zen asked concerned.

"Looks to be," Reed told him forcing a smile to comfort the boy.

"I'm going to die," Aramis muttered under her breath as she rubbed her bruised face.

"You'll be fine. Did you see the look Lion gave when you caught that rock? He was impressed! You have it in you," Reed went on.

Athos sat quietly appearing to mull over his fight with Huck. Aramis knew he wanted another chance to go at that boy.

"And you," Reed began looking at Athos. "Great first impression. Beat up the asshole. No one will want to fuck with you now," he finished with a grin.

This broke Athos' cold glare and he met the grin with his own.

"He is an asshole," Athos muttered with a grin relishing the chance to swear.

Aramis and Zen chuckled.

Just then Marcus and two other boys sat down in their group. Aramis recognized one from the day they arrived. He had been the one doing pull-ups by himself when they first saw the training centre. This boy never seemed to break away from his stone face. He was unquestionably the fittest among all the children here. He was probably around Marcus' age too. His wavy black hair reflected the sun's light and seemed to shine on its own. His skin had a natural dark tinge from the suns constant touch. It was darker with a unique tone unlike anyone here. Down his left arm was thick black markings. A tattoo. For someone so young, it was strange to see.

The other boy was as common as the rest of them with short dark brown hair curled behind his ears and tired brown eyes. His left eye was somewhat swollen and bruised. Clearly, he had had a rough morning too. He too had to be around fourteen. He seemed to be coming into puberty quickly. He was tall with a square jaw and defined Adam's apple. A good-looking boy nonetheless.

"You guys seem to be doing alright on your first day," Marcus said as he looked around the group,

Zen and Aramis smirked knowing the kindness of Marcus but Athos and Reed eyed him with suspicion.

"This is Marcus," Zen boomed enthusiastically. "He's been helping me all morning."

Zen's cheery tone seemed to be enough to warrant some trust from Athos and Reed.

"I'm Argo," the boy with the swollen eye spoke up. "This is Sharp Knife," he added gesturing to the other accomplice. "We both came from Colorado. Our tribes were at war with one another. Funny how a little massacre and assimilation can bring two warring factions together and breed best friends," Argo added punching Sharp Knife in the shoulder as a token of their friendship.

Sharp Knife rolled his eyes not letting a single muscle in his face cave to resemble any kind of expression other than indifference.

All the Painted Rock children stared at Sharp Knife. They'd never seen anyone quite like him. Sharp Knife's expression narrowed. Perhaps he usually got looks like this and was beginning to resent answering for their ignorance.

"My people lived in these lands long before bombs fell and long before your people came to our shores," he informed.

The history lesson went well over most of the children's heads but Aramis nodded with understanding. She had heard stories from her father of great hunters who knew the land better than anyone. There was no doubt in Aramis' head this boy was one of those people.

"Did that hurt?" Zen asked noting the tattoo on Sharp Knife's arm.

"The feeling of pride and accomplishment masked the pain. It's the markings of a boy who becomes a man when he slays his first Deathclaw. It's also how one gets their name. The beast left me with nothing but the end of my broken spear. As the creature reached for me with it's claws, I jumped to meet it and drove the knife into the animal's throat, killing it," Sharp Knife told them.

Zen and Aramis' wide-eyed, mouth-gaping expression displayed their amazement. Athos rolled his eyes.

"We're you scared?" Aramis asked in astonishment.

"I don't remember," Sharp Knife muttered nonchalantly.

"Those things killed two of our tribe on a hunt last year. The world would be a better place without them," Reed interjected.

"They are not the villains of this world. They are a product of man's creation. If you do not respect the creature, they will not respect you. After I killed the beast, I felt ashamed for taking the life of something that had never wronged me and since that day I learned what I could about the creatures. I would go off into the wastes and observe them. They are an intelligent and nurturing species, aggressively protective of their young and respectful of the order of hierarchy. Civilization could learn a thing or two from watching Deathclaws," Sharp Knife explained.

"They never tried to eat you!?" Zen called out.

"I got too close one time. If you make yourself small, never look them in the eye, they see you mean them no harm or challenge. I did just that and the animals moved on," Sharp Knife explained.

"Wow…." Aramis and Zen spoke in unison.

"BACK TO IT!" Lion's voices boomed over the group so to be heard by all perhaps in the entire camp.

With meals finished the children went back to their respective activities and exercises. Only when the sun had set was their day complete.

After dinner, they were permitted to continue fixing armour and building custom weapons if they had the know how to do so. Aramis' armour had stood the test of the first day and didn't need to be mended. She left the tent and wandered into the training area looking at the various weapons in their racks. No swords. How could there be no swords? She heard someone coming up behind her and turned to see Marcus.

"Ready for our private lesson?" he asked.

"Huh?" she replied confused. What was he talking about?

"You were crap out there today. If you're going to get better, you'll need to work at it more than anyone," he told her.

Aramis was exhausted. The idea of doing anymore made her muscle ache defiantly.

"But I," she tried.

"But what? Do you want to get your ass kicked every day? Stand beside me and let's go," he ordered.

Aramis raised her fists and stood beside Marcus.

"1, your jab," he explained. He let his left hand go forward in a snap. Aramis shadowed.

"2, your cross." Now his right arm swung out. Aramis copied.

"3, your hook." His left fist sprung out curving back with its strike.

"4, another cross"

Aramis and Marcus repeated the motions until they were fluid enough to move on.

After an additional hour, Marcus had shown her how to dip under a cross and slip a jab. She was able to follow different simple combinations she'd be able to use in her fighting. The kicks would take some work but she was small and would build the power-up in time.

The moon was high in the sky when Marcus finally allowed her to stop for the night.

"You're coming along alright kid," he told her with a smirk. "Remember, it's not all about striking your opponent, it's about blocking and avoiding his shots too," he added.

Aramis felt like a whole new person, lethal and dangerous.

"I'm ready!" she boomed enthusiastically. "Let's kill our enemies!"

Marcus smirked.

"In time. You gotta long way to go still," he said bringing her back to reality. The two of them began to walk towards the tent.

"Marcus?" Aramis mumbled under her breath.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," she uttered softly.

Marcus smirked.

"Don't mention it," he replied with a smirk. "Get to bed."

Aramis entered the tent silently and nestled into bed, curling up with her fur.

Lion sat on a chair by the door of the large tent taking a whetstone to his machete. He locked eyes with Marcus and gave a slight proud smile and a curt nod.

Marcus returned the nod respectfully and found his place in his own cot.

Aramis yawned and felt sleep finally take her.


	4. Chapter 4

The first week had truly been a culture shock for the Painted Rock children but as time wore on they grew more accustomed to the way of life in Camp Munda. It had been four weeks to the day since they walked through the gates oblivious to the life that awaited them. In the beginning, it had been difficult to think of anything other than their parents but the twins now found themselves going days without a single thought of their previous life. Things had become routine at this point with fixed meals, training and sleeping. If they weren't doing any of those three things they were preparing armour, weapons, and other mundane tasks.

The children were in The Ditch conducting their afternoon training as per the norm when Decanus Sipher strolled down the embankment and approached Lion. The children's first encounter with the Decanus seemed like a distant memory now. It must have been some important news to draw one such as he down to The Ditch. The children all tried to listen in but none could hear what the two were discussing. When the conversation concluded, Sipher took his leave and Lion called the children to come forth. They gathered around enthusiastically to hear what was going on.

"Training will end early today." Lion began. "Caeser wishes to address the camp in all its entirety. This is quite unexpected and you should feel honoured to be allowed to attend," Lion told them.

The children stood silently gawking in disbelief that Caesar would be speaking today. This truly was an honour they all appreciated. None could hide his excitement. Aramis was no exception.

"I don't want this interfering with your focus on the trials tomorrow," Lion went on. "I know you've all been training hard up to this point. Don't let it be a waste. I've done all I can for you. The rest is up to you and how badly you wish to serve our great leader."

Marcus, Sharp Knife and Argo stood straighter and carried a proud look on their faces. Lion was indeed talking about them. Tomorrow was the day of their trials, a day when they are pitted to fight in The Ditch for the Centurions. Each Centurion then hand selects those they wish to have in their ranks. It wasn't just a test of combat but of strength, speed and agility. Lion was confident that all three boys would have no issue finding his place in the ranks.

"We'll stop here for today. Get yourselves cleaned up and your armour looking proper. You don't want to make me look bad at the announcement tonight," Lion warned. He turned and hobbled off leaving the boys to their own accord for the rest of the afternoon. They all hurried off inside the tent to work on armour and weapons to show off tonight. No one spoke a single word, immersed in their tasks.

As the sun began to fall, Lion gathered the group in two ranks and marched them up the embankment with Athos an Aramis standing side by side. This would be the first time either of them would see Caesar. They marched up the embankment marvelling at the display set up for the occasion. A large mound of sticks had been gathered in the center of The Crater. In front of the massive pile of sticks, a large platform was constructed with two small fires burning at either side. It resembled that of a stage waiting for its performer to entertain the crowd.

Lion led the children into the arena and off to the side where they could see but was out of the way of those much more important.

The crowd that gathered was enormous. Men all clad in armour stood hollering and cheering for the words of their leader. For the first time, Athos and Aramis could see the array of armour and headdresses signifying the various ranks all in one gathering. Legionaries, Decani, even a few Centurions, everyone was out for this grand event. The sky was a brilliant display of reds, pinks and oranges as the sun fell lower to the horizon. The fires on the platform cast everyone in the dim glow, their shadows dancing on the walls of The Crater.

"There he is!" Athos called out to his sister.

The crowd's cheers became deafening.

Caesar, trailed by his Legate, Joshua Graham and the leader of the Praetorian Guard, Cerberus. They made their way alongside the crowd. Both Joshua and Cerberus took their places on either side of the stage while Caesar took front and centre.

Aramis was in awe. Caesar was just a man but a man who carried so much power. His salt and pepper hair didn't show age, it showed astuteness. The crimson tunic he wore was clean and pressed. His armour was not shoddy and pieced together with bits of garbage but looked as though it truly came from the days of ancient Rome. He had a hard face that demanded the respect of the crowd. He stood an average height with no overwhelming muscle mass. He was a man, a simple man, yet not a man at all. He was something far grander.

He raised his arms and the people fell silent.

"Ave my subjects! Today is July 13, 2250. Millenniums ago, one Gaius Julius Caesar was born ... a man who would carve himself an empire through strength, ambition and above all else, the unwillingness to let anything stand in his way. But this is our time!" Caesar began, his voice booming with poise and superiority.

"Mars, the God of War baptized this earth in fire the day the bombs fell and ushered in a new era on scorched earth. Mars did this because he wished to see the worthy rise from the flames and ashes, battle-hardened, and ready to spill blood to prove they were worthy to walk this land. He selected me personally to carry out his will, which is why I gather you all here tonight to bear witness, that I, your fearless leader Caesar, bestows upon himself the title that I am indeed the Son of Mars. A birthright I am granted as the War God's true chosen one!"

The crowd cheered louder than ever before.

Aramis' hands shot up in the air like all those in the arena but something didn't quite sit right with her.

First of all, who was this Mars fellow and what made him a God? She hadn't heard of him. She didn't know there was a God of War. From her trivial understanding of Deities, how could one be the son of a God just because he says so? It didn't make any sense to her. The entire concept of what just happened went well over her head regardless, she embraced the celebration as best she could.

When Caesar raised his hands once again the crowd fell silent.

"Tonight is a night for celebration. We are Mars' chosen warriors. We are his chosen people!" Caesar roared. "Let the slaves spread their legs to you this night! Fill your stomachs with the bounty I have provided! Share this moment with me from now until sunrise!"

The men shouted triumphantly like crazed animals turned loose by their master.

Sure enough young slave girls and women carried plates of roasted meat into the arena. Caesar was feeding the wolves.

"Time to go," Lion muttered to the children.

"What?! Seriously! But the party!" Argo called out before he thought about his defiant action. Lion shot him a harsh glare.

"This isn't meant for ones as young as you. Plus, you have trials tomorrow. Now is not the time to be indulging," Lion snapped back bitterly.

The children all moaned with disappointment.

"Would you rather I cancel your trials and keep you for the rest of your miserable lives as my own personal slaves?!" he yelled.

The children all pushed into their ranks without another sound. As Lion led them back down the embankment, the roaring of cheers, yells and a sporadic scream faded in the distance.

"Bed, now!" Lion barked his voice clearly heated by the children's boldness to talk back to him. "Lights out!"

Each torch was methodically put out and the tent went silent and still.

Aramis lay on her cot eyes wide open. She did her best to drain out the noise from The Crater high up the embankment but the sounds filled her ears with wonder. An hour or so passed by and sleep still hadn't found her so decided to do something she knew would result in harsh consequence if she were discovered. She rolled off her cot and onto the floor. No one made a sound. On her stomach, she pulled herself along the sandy floor of the tent until she came to its edge. Slowly she lifted up one side and crawled out beneath it.

The cool night air hit her with a refreshing pleasantness. She quickly got to her feet and ran up the embankment staying in the shadows to remain out of sight. The thrill of sneaking around was exhilarating. She was so small she could fit into any nook and cranny that offered her shelter from scanning eyes.

She just wanted to watch, that was all. It wasn't about getting food or partaking in the festivities, she just wanted to watch.

The sounds of men laughing drew her in closer. The walls that circled the crater kept out her prying eyes. If she wanted to see what was going on, she very well couldn't just walk through the opening, she had to climb the wall.

Her attention turned upwards gaping up at the wall and the vices placed upon it to keep ones such as she from doing exactly what she planned on doing. Nonetheless, she was determined to just sneak a peek inside.

She was able to slip her little hands and feet inside the tiny cracks in the walls and pull herself up along the uneven rusted metal. This was easier than she thought. When she finally made it to the top she was sure to avoid the shards of glass and barbed wire that kept her firmly out. Her eyes beheld a sight of … madness. It was an all-out frenzy in the arena. The voracious animals had devoured all the meat. The fires that encapsulated the chaos around them projected a heat that stung at her eyes almost as much as the visual displays she was witnessing. They all seemed to be participating in some kind of ritual involving the slave women though she couldn't figure out exactly what was going on.

"Seen enough?" a calm voice called out to her.

She turned sharply obviously startled and lost her footing. Her fingers reached out to grasp anything that would prevent her fall but found nothing but air. As she fell, the only thought that popped into her head was that she better have a damn good excuse when she hits the ground as to why she was here in the first place.

Her body made contact with the ground sending a jolt of pain throughout. It had been a higher fall than she expected and the pain was greater too. On the way down she must have caught a piece of jagged metal because her left leg was cut quite badly along the back of her calf letting blood pour out and coat the sand.

None of that mattered because she was looking up at the man who had caught her snooping out of bed at this hour. The man she least wanted to see again. His pale blue eyes were locked on her and his face carried no emotion. He simply stared at her like he was waiting for her line of excuses.

She felt the tears well up in her eyes from fear and pain, his silent stares evoking a sense of hopelessness in her. She sat on the ground letting her leg bleed without intervention staring up at him with a defeated look on her face. Her bottle lip trembled as she tried to contain her sobs. Her chest heaved with each shallow tachypneic breath.

"Saw what you came here to see?" he spoke methodically. His voice was soft and soothing which only added to her fear of him.

She didn't dare answer his question. She couldn't find her words even if she wanted to.

"I don't like to repeat myself," he added nonchalantly.

She forced her head to nod eagerly.

"Yes, my Legate," she uttered in a whispered tone, barely audible to his ears.

"Then let's deal with this," he told her as he reached out and scooped her up with one hand and placed her back on her feet. "Let's go," he instructed as he began to walk towards a darkened area of the camp, a side she had never been to before. It was the headquarters section.

She followed a half step behind The Legate with her head slumped forward starring at the ground. This was to be her downfall. The Legate would certainly show no mercy or exercise restraint to one such as she even if she were only seven. He had gotten to his position by being a cutthroat killer proficient in brutality.

He didn't speak another word to her as he led her into an average size tent with a large simplistic wooden bed placed in the centre of the rear wall. Two torches strategically positioned on the left and right wall lit up the room for him to see where he was going. There were a couple footlockers kept along the right wall and a shelf stacked high with various books on the left. He moved to a small table placed in the nearest corner to them and picked a few items off its surface and stuffed them in his pant pockets.

"Come with me," he told her and she followed without question.

They moved to a spot just outside the tent where a large rock stuck out of the ground.

"Sit," he instructed.

She sat on the ground.

"On the rock, you idiot," he mocked coldly.

She frantically pulled herself to sit on the rock looking up at him with wide pleading eyes.

"Hold out your leg," he ordered.

She held out the leg that wasn't bleeding out of fear of showing the injury.

"You're believable ... your bleeding leg!" he barked.

She reluctantly stuck out her other leg. He bent down on one knee in front of her and took out of his back pocket, a clear bottle of water.

"Stay still," he ordered.

She watched him pour the water over the deep laceration. The water turned a bright red as it washed down her leg. It was cold but soothing to the wound site. The Legate then took something else out of his pocket and placed her leg on his knee. She could see it was a roll of gauze. He began to roll it over her the injury.

"Keep it clean or it will get infected. We won't have the means to deal with sepsis should it come to that," he informed her with the same indifferent tone he always used.

"Yes, my Legate," she murmured softly, stunned he didn't cut off her leg right then and there.

He continued to wrap more gauze around her leg looking over his shoulder every so often to be sure the party still kept everyone in the arena.

"Why are you out of bed?" he asked.

Now came the inquisition.

"I wanted to see the party," Aramis told truthfully.

"That's not a party for one as young as you," he directed.

She nodded solemnly.

"It's not even a place for one such as myself," he told her further.

"Why?" she asked letting curiosity get the better of her.

The Legate paused and eyed the child cautiously. Aramis knew she spoke out of line and yet hopefully the Legate felt there was no harm in indulging her questions.

"God has higher expectations of me. I must exercise restraint when the weak fall to such carnal desires," he explained.

She felt her eyes glaze over, she was not the audience for such conversation.

"Can I ask a question?" she interjected.

"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you," he replied softly.

Aramis blinked several times.

"Ask," The Legate growled.

"How can one be the son of a God?" she questioned.

He raised a brow. It took a second for him to clue into what she was asking.

"You're referring to Caesar's speech tonight, right?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Caesar believes in his Gods as I believe in mine. I believe I am the vassal for my Lord's work and that I act out his will so that he may spread his hand across the wastes with my deeds. This is no different than Caesar, except he believes he is the son of his God," The Legate tried to answer but Aramis could see even the Legate struggled with this concept.

"Does he not have a real mom and dad? How can he be the son of humans and Gods?" she asked.

The Legate smirked slightly.

"A sparrow comes into this world a sparrow. When it sees a hawk fly higher and faster the sparrow can grow envious and wish to be the hawk. Just because it learns to fly higher and faster than any other sparrow does not make it a hawk. It will always be a sparrow," the Legate offered.

Aramis' eyes glazed over once again.

"I didn't know there was a God of War," she tried to curb the conversation to her level again.

"What do you believe then?" he asked sensitively.

"How can something be real if you've never seen it? I don't think Gods exist," she said flatly but when she saw his brow rise she knew she spoke too freely. Before she could backtrack the Legate cut in this time unable to hold back his words.

"God hasn't always existed. Wait let me rephrase. God hasn't always existed as he does today or as he did centuries ago. Before you and me, before man there had to be something else. We didn't just appear as we are. Before us, before God there was Matter. Matter has always been and always will be. It makes up everything we see, touch, breathe…. You get my point. But matter cannot take form without an idea. An idea requires a mind. That's where God came in. God was a mind. The most powerful mind of all time. He doesn't just claim 'let there be, and there is,' he crafted…. hmmm …. constructed this world for us – his children….." the Legate began to preach when Aramis cut him off.

"If we are all God's children, why are we always fighting and killing each other? Doesn't that make us all brothers and sisters?" Aramis' mind deciphered.

"Just because we are all God's children doesn't mean all are worthy to bask in the glory that is God. God is selective and we must prove our worth during this probation on Earth before we can be judged accordingly and…." the Legate went on until Aramis interjected again.

"So God is judging us? On what?" Aramis defected.

The Legate smirked and pulled the small black book out of his left breast pocket. He didn't open it instead he simply held it and quoted from its pages.

"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind," Joshua recited.

"That's it? Just love God?" Aramis questioned.

"The book has many teachings," he told her.

Aramis looked at the cover of the book.

"The Holy Bible," she read.

Joshua's attention fell on her sharply. Aramis knew he was surprised she could read.

"That's the book that tells you to just love God?" she asked

"And other things."

"Like?"

"Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets," he began. "God has bestowed upon us - his children rules in which to govern ourselves."

That stirred an odd thought in Aramis.

"Then why did you kill my parents?" she asked solemnly.

Joshua's face turned suddenly hard.

Perhaps she had gone to far this time. To speak of your past life was forbidden and her brothers beneath the banner of the bull made it clear she was not to resent The Legion for actions taken against her people. Still, what he spoke of raised questions. If what The Legate told her was what he truly believed in, something didn't make sense.

There was a drawn-out silence between the two. Aramis shifted uncomfortably in place and let her eyes fall to the ground submissively. She did not mean to anger him and she expected his wrath.

"Like I said, I act as a vassal of God. He speaks and I listen. It may not be words he uses to communicate so I learned to read his signs. He brought me to Caesar and I could see God's will in that man. I am not the only messenger of God, he chooses many to carry out his divine plan. Sometimes God asks his children to do things that may seem hypocritical but even God makes mistakes and it is up to his children to help him fix them," he explained.

Aramis was doing her best to follow the complicated thoughts of this man.

"What if you become angry with someone and you want to kill them. Is that God's will?" she asked.

"If a feeling is so strong deep inside, the feeling is God's feeling. His anger is your anger so long as you hold God closer to yourself than anyone else," he informed looking to Aramis who wore a confused expression on her face plainly.

"You'll understand in time. Follow your brothers, be true to Caesar and you will find your place here. Let me worry about following God's plan, you worry about becoming a great Legionary," he told her.

Aramis smiled warmly. Her soft features and a wide toothy grin made her somewhat adorable and for the first time, she saw a warm, almost kind smile stretch across his face.

Many Legion Children didn't last through the harsh training and Aramis was smaller and more slender than the other boys. The odds were always stacked against her so to have the Legate take pity on her and show her mercy was most welcome.

"The sun will be rising soon. Watch that leg," The Legate told her.

Aramis got to her feet. The pain was mild and wouldn't pose many issues for training.

"Before you go back, take this," he told her holding out the small black book. "Read it, if you can. Maybe you'll learn something," he informed. "I expect it back."

She took the book with a sceptical smile. She was thrilled The Legate had been so kind but his ideas didn't entirely make sense to her. Regardless, she would do her best to read the book and find clarity. Aramis tucked the little black book away so it would not be spotted.

"My Legate," she mused striking her right arm across her chest with pride and loyalty before turning and running off back across the camp and down the embankment.

As Joshua watched her run he wondered if his leniency would pay off in time. The thought crossed his mind that if groomed at a young age, he could construct a Legionary more loyal to himself and therefore more deadly. Aramis would prove a worthy test subject in this case. Of course, Joshua would have to be careful how he went about this. To have his own personal dog was not exactly for one in a position such as he, after all, he was a dog to another. The thought didn't way to heavily after all, he could always just kill the brat and no one would pay it any mind. He turned and walked back into his own tent hearing the ruckus from the arena still going on. Animals, he thought.

Aramis slipped back under the tent and crawled into her cot without alerting anyone to her absence. She took out the book The Legate had given her and flicked through the pages. It was too dark in the tent to read anything so she slipped it under her mangled fur blanket and finally let sleep take her.

A.N. - This chapter took forever for me to get right. Forgive me, I am not a religious person so Joshua Graham is a very tough character for me to write for. Still, I love his character a lot so I did my best to do him justice. Hope you all like it! R/R!


	5. Chapter 5

No one said a word at breakfast the following day. Marcus, Argo and Sharp Knife looked as though they couldn't even keep down their meal. Maybe it was the fly larva Argo found in his oatmeal or just nerves from the trials today that made them pale and on edge.

As time dragged, every eye fell on Lion to pass on the agenda for the day. When he finally met his awaiting audience's stare he felt compelled to answer their silent question.

"The trials will begin at ten this morning. Centurion Hemis, and Thoros are the only two Centurions allowed to take new recruits right now. I imagine one of you will go with Hemis and the other two with Thoros. I hear Hemis is leading his force out the following week so don't expect much time for integration," Lion informed.

Hemis and Thoros were two of the most cold-blooded Centurions in Caesar's Legion. Their men were undoubtedly the best in the ranks due to the harsh, rigorous training they had to endure.

The boys cleared the table and hurried outside to The Ditch to prepare for the trials. No one got in the way of the older boys as they prepared themselves for the mornings challenge.

The Ditch was cleared out of most obstacles and equipment in preparation for the trials. All that remained was a couple long fighting sticks, several spears on their racks with their targets some twenty feet away, a heavy five-foot log, some sand bags and two red rocks positioned at either side of The Ditch. At 0945 two men clad in armour and elaborate headdresses could be seen making their way down the embankment.

Athos had been sitting on a large rock sharpening his spear with a small knife when the two men came into view. He stopped what he was doing and gawked at the Centurions. Both Hemis and Thoros were dressed in a similar way. Their armour was a mismatch of sports equipment, patched leather and metal plates. Both men bore the crest of their master's bull etched on his chest plate in a vibrant gold. Their helmets were a spectacle on their own, red feathers pluming outwards like a fan across their heads. Bandanas and dark sunglasses masked their faces keeping all emotions a secret.

The two men passed Athos without a single acknowledgement of his existence, which was fine by him. He didn't know who was who but there were ways to tell the men apart at least. One was slightly taller than the other and a bit more slender. He carried a rather impressive looking rifle slung over his shoulder. Athos didn't know enough about sophisticated weaponry to know what it was.

His colleague was of average height but had a broad shoulder and more muscle definition. This man must have preferred close range combat because a menacing looking lance slid back and forth along his back with each stride. Athos liked the look of that weapon. The two Centurions walked right up to Lion and each shook his hand firmly. Athos turned on his rock so he could listen.

"Ave," Lion greeted cheerfully.

"Lion! You old animal, how you been?!" asked the Centurion carrying the lance with the same upbeat tone.

"Not out there with you but I can't complain," Lion replied with a smile that made Athos cringe. Those sharpened canines of his were unnerving.

"You have some new blood for us, huh? Can we expect good things?" the same Centurion asked.

"Hemis, need you ever question my expertise in training these mongrels?" Lion teased.

By process of elimination, Athos was able to uncover that the Centurion with the lance was Hemis so the one with the rifle had to be Thoros.

"I hear you march for Colorado," Lion asked.

Both Hemis and Thoros glanced at each other like they'd been discussing the very topic just moments ago.

"We leave in three days time," Hemis replied but his tone was much more solemn.

The three men didn't speak for a few drawn out seconds. Athos wondered why the conversation suddenly dried up.

"So … what can we expect, Lion?" Thoros asked crossing his arms over his chest trying to bridge to conversation back.

"Three boys. All came here as younglings, trained hard, and are ready to serve. Not one comes without merit. I think you will be impressed," Lion offered his judgment.

Both Centurions nodded.

"Very well, let's get on with this shall we?" Thoros groaned moving towards The Ditch expecting to be followed.

"Argo, Sharp Knife, Marcus! Prepare!" Lion's voice carried.

The Ditch was emptied of all but the three boys in seconds. Marcus, Argo and Sharp Knife stood in the center of clutching their long fighting sticks in their right hand. They stood straight, proud and zealous to show off their skills for the selection. The other boys lined the circle of the arena eagerly anticipating the events to come. Athos found his sister sitting next to Reed and Zen and stood with them.

Lion, Hemis and Thoros stood off on their own so whispers could not be eavesdropped upon.

"Let's have Marcus and Sharp Knife first," Lion ordered.

Argo moved silently to the edge of the arena to wait out his chance to be called in. Marcus and Sharp Knife turned and faced one another some five paces away.

"Begin!" Lion shouted which made everyone jump slightly.

The two boys raised their sticks and clashed violently, turning up sand beneath their feet. It was easy to see where each one had strength and weakness. Marcus felt comfortable with his fighting stick much like he did with his throwing spears. It looked light in his hand and he swung it like it was an extension of his arm. He made contact in various places on Sharp Knife's body but he didn't carry enough power to maim on any of his strikes.

Sharp Knife on the other hand carried the power. Marcus may have been able to move around quicker and get more shots in but each one of Sharp Knife's successful hits looked as though it broke bones.

Marcus had to back off after one nasty hit to his rib cage. He stumbled back eying his competitor in a way neither Athos nor Aramis ever saw him look at anyone. These two boys may have been close friends but at this particular moment, they were combatants trying to prove themselves at any cost.

"Marcus is going to get his head knocked off," came a snickering voice behind the Painted Rock children.

Huck and Titus stood beside one another with cruel smiles glued on their faces.

Reed glanced at Zen who looked particularly fearful that what the boy said was true. Reed picked up on this and placed a hand on Zen's shoulder.

"Marcus is doing very well. They are all friends out there. No one is going to get seriously hurt," Reed promised.

Zen smiled at Reed appreciating the confidence boost. He then turned and sneered to Huck who glared at the young boy with loathing.

"Maybe you should stop coddling the little rodent," Titus mocked to Reed.

Reed simply ignored the tough act and continued to watch the trials.

Athos on the other hand seemed to relish in the opportunity to start something with these boys again.

"Hey, Huck! I still laugh when I picture your face after I beat you up," Athos teased bringing his hands up over his face, making a terrified expression and whimpering to mimic the last confrontation he had with Huck. "You sounded like a squealing pig," he added with a laugh.

Huck scowled at Athos with bitter resentment. The blood rushed into his face and he clenched both fists till the knuckles turned white.

"Just wait, the next time we're paired up, I'll let you have it!" Huck defended.

"No thanks, I am above you now," Athos mocked further.

"Enough…." Reed interjected. "Watch the trials…."

Athos pouted but turned back to the arena where Sharp Knife now pinned Marcus to the ground holding his arms over his head. Both sticks must have broken during Athos and Huck's verbal confrontation. It looked as though Marcus was out of this one until he managed to get a foot under Sharp Knife and sent the dark-haired boy over top of him.

"That's enough," Lion interrupted. "Argo, step in for Sharp Knife. Get a new stick for Marcus," Lion called out. Both Marcus and Sharp Knife picked themselves up panting and heaving from the exertion. Both boys appeared to be smiling and embraced in a firm hand shake before pulling each other in for a clashing of chests and pat on the back.

Aramis and Athos smiled glad to see neither boy had bruised egos.

Now it was Sharp Knife's turn to catch his breath on the sidelines. Despite the battle that just ensued, Marcus looked ready to face Argo. He grasped the new stick given to him and the two boys exchanged a friendly smirk.

"Begin!" Lion's voice boomed. The boys along the circle jumped once again. There was no getting use to that.

Like before, sticks flew and swung trying to make contact where anything was exposed. Argo and Marcus seemed evenly matched both in skill, size and strength. Marcus was maybe a touch slower but that was to be expected after his lengthy fight with Sharp Knife.

Marcus swung his stick like a baseball bat, which didn't let him counter the jab from below as Argo brought up the end of his own stick contacting Marcus' nose. Everyone could hear the crunch and winced seeing the violent blow that sent Marcus staggering back. Blood rushed from his now clearly deformed nose. Argo's face scrunched up seeing the damage he had caused and looked as though he truly felt bad about it.

Marcus spit the blood that had tricked back down his throat out on the sand and raised his stick ready for more.

Argo smirked and raised his own stick again.

"That'll do, boys," Lion's voice called out. "He wasn't good-looking before and he certainly ain't now," Lion teased noting Marcus' bruised and bloodied face.

It was impossible to see what the Centurions were thinking behind their covered faces but Athos thought he saw Thoros nodding ever so slightly with approval.

"Next will be the obstacle course. Timed event. Argo, you're up first," Lion spoke.

Argo made his way over to one of the bright red rocks on the ground. Lion held a rather shambled watch in his hand.

"Go!" Lion roared.

Argo took off kicking sand up behind him. He ran to the next red rock across the arena and picked up one of the spears. He let it fly towards its target and saw it make contact with the chest of the straw dummy. He rushed towards the sandbags running as best he could in the deep sand. He picked one sandbag up in each hand and carried it to the other red rock once more. He placed them down and picked up the large log, heaved it over his shoulder and carried it to the other rock once again. This back and forth motion between the rocks carried on until all tasks were complete. When he was at the other side he ran back to the other rock and Lion stopped the watch. He showed the two Centurions who nodded respectively.

Lion gave the boy a smirk and a slight nod. When Argo turned, the children could see his ear-to-ear smile. He was done and he had done quite well.

"Sharp Knife, you're next!" Lion called.

Argo stood at the side of the arena next to Marcus. Once again the two boys embraced in the same manner as before.

"Go!"

Sharp Knife carried out the same routine with the same drive and determination. His own spear not only made contact with the dummy but pierced right through it which brought a collective /whoa!/ from the spectators.

When he was done, Lion gave him the same nod and smirk. Sharp Knife turned and despite his attempts to keep a stone cold face, everyone could see the corners of his mouth were lifted ever so slightly.

Marcus didn't need to be called; he stood ready and eager to prove himself.

"Go!

Despite the pain in his face and probable concussion, Marcus performed exceptionally well. His spear made contact between his target's eyes, Marcus' specialty. He truly was remarkable with a throwing spear. He may not have been as fast as Argo or as strong as Sharp Knife but Marcus had finesse about him. His form was always perfect. When Marcus was done, Lion looked as though he was truly proud of the three boys. He called them over and they all shook hands with the Centurions. Formal introductions were made and they spoke for some time before the two Centurions took their leave.

"Salve, Lion. We'll let you know our decision by tonight," Hemis spoke up as the two men made their way back up the embankment.

Lion and the three boys entered the tent to discuss the trials in private.

All the spectating children gathered in a gaggle to discuss the events that had just unfolded.

"Who do you think they'll pick?!" Aramis asked.

"Sharp Knife if definitely a solid brute! I think Hemis likes those types," Jet offered his opinion.

"Marcus proved he could take a hit and keep on going. That would impress anyone," Reed added.

"Did you see Thoros whip his head back when Argo crossed the finish? I didn't know Argo could go that fast," Titus uttered.

"Marcus was the best," Zen mused with an excited grin.

"Whatever, they'll be picked and probably die in their first month out there," Huck mumbled.

"Nuh, uh!" Zen defended.

"You wont even make it to trials I bet!" Huck mocked the youngest boy.

"Leave him alone, Huck," Reed warned.

Huck may have had a nasty bark about him but when Reed spoke, he listened. Reed was now the oldest in the group and therefore called most of the shots around here.

"Just think. In one year, that will be you," Athos spoke looking to Reed.

Reed didn't smile or acknowledge the remark. He seemed to be lost in his own thought, his own worry.

Reed would be going at it alone. The closest in age to him were Yankee, an African-American boy who was eleven and Deegan who was also eleven. Who knows, maybe in time more children would come to the camp.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The children were given the rest of the afternoon off of training to work on new armour and weapons. The hot topic in the tent was of course the trials. Athos and Zen were eager to get started on their next weapons. Zen was busily sharpening a small dagger out of wood while Athos seemed inclined to experiment with two long sticks and sharp fan like rocks tied to either end like double-sided axes. No doubt Lion was going to tell him he couldn't use it while training with others.

Aramis took the opportunity to pull out the book the Legate had given her. The first part was called, Pentateuch. There were five 'chapters' in total, Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. No doubt this was going to take her a long time to get through. She began at the beginning, Genesis trying to get into the words. It was complex reading. None of the sentences had been like anything she had ever read before.

As time went on she had gotten quite far in its passages. Only when Lion called the boys to get dinner ready did she put down her book.

"What are you reading?" Athos finally managed to ask.

"Just some book I found," she muttered dismissing his question like it was nothing to make a big deal over. Athos seemed more inclined to stuff his face with food to care anyways.

"The Centurions have made their decision," Lion now spoke and the table fell silent.

"Thoros has chosen Argo and Sharp Knife," Lion began. "Hemis will take Marcus."

The boys cheered for their comrades and congratulations were expressed by all, even Huck reluctantly.

Argo and Sharp Knife seemed thrilled with the pick that they would be together. There was something off about Marcus though. His smile seemed clouded with worry like there was doubt beneath it. His brows appeared furrowed and he fidgeted with his food.

"I know you boys will serve The Legion well and make me proud as I already am," Lion offered kindly. All three boys raised their cup of water in respect to his words.

"True to Caesar!" they spoke in unison and the other boys all raised their cups as well and spoke the loyal words.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After dinner the boys were allowed to carry on with their tasks. Argo and Sharp Knife began to pack their things while Marcus seemed to have disappeared.

Aramis was back in her book but Athos was restless. He wandered outside and found Marcus simply sitting on a rock staring up at the couple stars that had poked through tonight.

"You okay?" Athos asked as he approached the older boy.

"Scared," Marcus spoke truthfully.

"You'll be a great Legionary! You're the best!" Athos assured which made Marcus chuckle.

"I'm not going to have much time to prepare. Hemis marches his forces into Colorado in just a few days. I will be marching with battle-heartened Legionaries beneath the banner. Talk about needing to step up one's game," Marcus added.

"You're not a coward. You'll fight well," Athos solidified.

"You take care of your brother, eh? He needs you," Marcus told the younger boy.

Athos nodded.

"I'll have his back," he promised.

"Reed's a good guy. He seems to be watching out for you as well. When he goes it will be just you so you need to grow up quick," Marcus informed.

Athos nodded once more. Marcus stood up and glanced down at the smaller boy.

"Let's go back in, I need to pack."

That night, after they finished packing the three chosen boys began their farewells. Hands shook and a few hugs were expressed here and there.

Marcus hugged Aramis tightly.

"Remember, 1-2-3-4" he spoke softly to her. Athos grinned.

She nodded and hugged him tightly.

Marcus walked over to Zen and hugged the small boy tighter than anyone. Zen was taking the parting hard. The boys shared private words before Marcus turned and joined his two friends for their last journey up the embankment as Legion Children.

"I'll be back. Don't kill each other or burn down the tent," Lion barked as he escorted the older boys towards their new respective home among the other Legionaries. Those left behind watched until they were out of sight before going back to their business.

Aramis went back to her book while Athos and Zen sat on Athos' cot and carved away at their weapons. The excitement was over and things took a rather somber turn for the rest of the evening. The tent felt strangely empty without the three older boys. There were only ten left now and the Painted Rock children hadn't really meshed with anyone else. It was quiet in the tent even when Lion returned. He simply went to his bed and lay down for a while.

Aramis put her book down for a moment and looked around the room as if she were pondering something.

"How's the book?" Reed asked.

"I think God hates his children," Aramis voiced.

Reed raised a brow and scrunched up his face like he hadn't been expecting such a response.

"What are you talking about? What God?" Reed questioned.

"The God," she replied with mild sarcasm like even she didn't believe her own words.

"Where did you get this book?!"

"I found it….."

"I think you better unfind it," he suggested. "Sounds like it goes against what we are being taught here."

Aramis sighed but ignored the comment and went back to reading.

"Lights out!" Lion's voice suddenly called out. The torches were extinguished and the boys rolled up in the furs.

The summer months flew by and training remained the same for the Painted Rock children. Reed had risen to the challenge of being the oldest and everyone else followed his lead despite his relatively short period of time spent in the camp.

Huck continued to pester anyone he felt beneath him, which was just about everyone. The Legion Children were somewhat divided. If you didn't want to be teased, you were friends with Huck. The Painted Rock children remained firmly united and did their best to ignore the constant badgering, all except Athos who fought with Huck weekly. Lion was getting quite frustrated breaking the boys up so often. Reed had no choice but to treat everyone fairly but that didn't mean he socialized with Huck or any of his pack. Those who chose to train with Reed and the other Painted Rock children, usually Jet, the tweaked out ginger and Rusty, the mute African-American boy knew they were taking a risk because once Reed left, they'd be unprotected.

Rusty had his tongue pulled out by his supposed father when he was a very small boy. Yankee, one of the other boys who had come from his tribe explained that Rusty's mother had been unfaithful and when her husband found out the boy wasn't his, he cut Rusty's tongue out and left him to die. Yankee's parents apparently took the young boy in and saved his life. Athos and Aramis would have thought the boys would have been closer since they allegedly had been raised together but Yankee seemed to resent Rusty a bit and the two had divided themselves here in the camp. Rusty was nine years old but acted young for his age. He seemed to take a liking to Zen and the two became rather close often training together if given the choice.

It had been weeks since an update on the campaign in Colorado. News was often mixed. Hemis and his forces weren't advancing much into the region and were being met with heavy resistance from the tribes there. Casualties were mounting significantly with each report. Thoros tried for weeks to allow his men to go and aid his brethren but Caesar refused to send him. It was late August when Thoros was finally granted permission to join Hemis in Colorado. Surely Marcus would be thrilled to see his two friends from training.

Word came several weeks later that there had been an issue and Thoros would be returning with his men to explain the crisis in person, correspondence wasn't to be trusted. That was the last any of them heard.

This particular day in late October was especially dry and hot. Even Lion didn't want to be standing around in the burning sun so he let the boys choose their training for the afternoon so he could retire inside the shady tent and sleep away they afternoon. Aramis took to finding a spot in the shade and reading her book outside. It was taking longer than she expected and she often had to reread passages just to get the jest of it.

"Open the gates!" came a sudden cry from within the camp.

Everyone stopped what he was doing and looked up the embankment. Lion had now emerged from within the tent looking groggy but alert. Aramis closed her book and tucked it away out of sight.

"Stay here!" Lion ordered and hobbled his way up the hill towards the main gate. Athos found Aramis and stood with her.

"What do you think it is?" Aramis asked.

"No idea,"

Several minutes later Lion appeared coming back down the hill.

"Reed!" he shouted. Reed hurried to the instructor's side. The two exchanged words and Reed nodded vigorously. Everyone could see the concern on the instructors face.

Lion went back up while Reed came down to inform the others what was going on.

"Lion's needed at the headquarters for the afternoon and probably all night. I'm to keep an eye on things down here," he informed.

"What's going on?" Yankee spoke out.

"The Centuraie have returned from Colorado. Apparently it isn't good. When they want us to know more, they'll tell us," Reed replied resolutely.

"What of Marcus, Argo and Sharp Knife?!" Zen called out.

"I don't know!" Reed suddenly snapped. "I'm sure they'll tell us in time."

This was the first time any of them had heard Reed raise his voice in such a way, especially to some one like Zen seemed out of character. Zen took it quite personally and ran back into the tent. Aramis could see Reed felt a pitting feeling deep within his chest and knew he hadn't meant to snap at the young boy. Athos glared at Reed before following after Zen. Aramis looked up the embankment. She had to find out what was going on.

In the tent, Athos found Zen sitting on his bed and sat beside him.

"Reed's been under a lot of stress. His trials are in less than a year and he's been under a lot of pressure. Imagine how he must feel right now. We don't know the state of Marcus, Sharp Knife or Argo. If the three of them didn't make it, that probably scares Reed. He probably thinks he wont make it either out there," Athos tried.

That seemed to get through to Zen. He looked up at Athos and forced a smile.

"Thanks…" he began as he rubbed the tears away. "You think the others are okay?"

Athos didn't know what to think but he nodded to give the young boy piece of mind.

Suddenly Reed came through the tent and saw Athos with Zen. He made his way across and without saying a word hugged Zen tightly.

"I'm sorry," Reed spoke truthfully.

"You're going to be a great Legionary," Zen spoke though his words were muffled in Reed's chest. Reed just hugged him tighter. Athos smirked as he locked eyes with Reed.

Aramis had done what she did best, snuck away to try and get some sort of news to bring back for the others. The camp was bustling with men running about. No one took notice to the Legion Child wandering among them.

Aramis moved through the crowd trying to find a familiar face. The returning Legionaries looked worn out and exhausted from the long march home. Each one bore the gold bull on their chest but every one of them had the black band of Thoros around his left arm. They were all men of Thoros. Not a single one wore the yellow paw print of Hemis on their left shoulder. Where were Hemis' men?

Finally Aramis saw some one she recognized immediately. She pushed her way through the men until she was face to face with Argo.

"Argo!" she called out.

Through listless eyes he saw her standing before him. He didn't smile when he saw her or seem alive at all. He looked as though he hadn't eaten in days. His face was gaunt and sunken in with starvation. He was covered in dirt and blood though appeared uninjured.

"Argo?" Aramis called out this time more cautious.

He saw her and yet he didn't see her. His attention seemed to go right through her.

"Aramis? What are you doing here, boy?" came a familiar voice. Sharp Knife had come through the crowd and was standing beside Argo. "You shouldn't be up here….."

"What happened?" Aramis asked trying to make their reunion brief.

"You should go back…." Sharp Knife told her but Aramis didn't move.

"Where's Marcus? What happened? What's wrong with Argo?" she demanded to know.

"Argo will be fine, he's just….. shaken up is all," Sharp Knife offered some relief to her curiosity. "Marcus….. he didn't make it," he added trying to be forward.

"What? No. How could he not make it!? He was the best of us!" Aramis defended denying any possibility that Sharp Knife was telling the truth.

"You really should….." Sharp Knife tried but he was cut off when he saw Lion appear.

"Aramis! What are you doing!? Get back down to The Ditch, now!" his voice roared.

Aramis' eyes went wide and she turned and disappeared in the crowd. She hurried down the embankment fighting back the tears. She couldn't care less that she'd been caught breaking the rules. Marcus was dead.

"Reed!" she called out. Everyone who had been out of the tent saw her running down the embankment.

"What were you doing up there?!" their questions boomed but she broke past the group until she ran right into Reed.

"What?! What is it?!" he asked trying to push her back a bit so he could see her face.

"Marcus is dead!" she sobbed into his chest.

Whispers began to erupt around the Legion Children.

"Marcus is dead? How!?" Yankee asked.

"He must be lying," Deegan assured.

"What did you hear?!" Reed demanded of Aramis.

She tried to find her words.

"Argo. He's here. Sharp Knife with him. Sharp Knife said Marcus didn't make it back!" Aramis cried.

Tears were welling up and it was a matter of seconds before they all lost themselves to their emotions.

"Enough of this!" Reed shouted. "We all knew the reality of this place. People die. If you don't accept these things you wont last!" Reed told them all with an authoritative voice.

The boys all choked back their tears and nodded with understanding.

"Pull yourselves together. Marcus may be dead but if Aramis is right, Argo and Sharp Knife made it back. We should be thankful for that," Reed added. "Now get back to training or Lion will really give us all something to cry about."

The crowd around Reed and Aramis broke off leaving just Athos and Zen with them.

"So it's true?" Athos asked.

Aramis nodded slowly. No one spoke. Reed broke off from the group and went back into the tent followed by Zen.

Athos remained with his sister seeing how upset she was by all this. The two walked into the tent and found their beds. It may have only been late in the afternoon but no one felt like continuing on with their training. No one had wanted to eat dinner so no one went and got it. The tent remained silent for the rest of the evening and till dawn when footsteps could be heard coming through the tent. Everyone sat up in their beds. Clearly no one had slept last night. Lion emerged through the flap and saw all eyes on him. His own eyes locked with Aramis and he knew she had spread the word.

"Is it true Lion? Is Marcus dead?" Reed called out in the early morning light.

Lion took a deep breath.

"Hemis and his men were attacked at their camp in the middle of the night. They were severely out numbered. They fought off as many as they could but all fell. Hemis, tried to take his own life when he knew he'd been defeated. He wished to die alongside his men but the blade he used didn't kill him and his enemy found him bleeding to death surrounded by the bodies of his men. The enemy patched him up interrogated him but when he gave no information, they castrated him and burned out his eyes. They returned him to his camp and tied him to a stake where he was found by Thoros' forces just a day later," Lion explained.

Everyone in the tent was in silent awe. Who were these tribes people in Colorado and what forces did they hold to beat back an entire Centuraie?

"Aramis, a word now," Lion ordered and left the tent expecting her to follow.

Aramis looked to Athos and swallowed the lump in her throat. There was no way Lion was going to let her get away with sneaking up top.

She followed her instructor out of the tent ready for his justice.

"What were you thinking going up top!? What if some one other than myself had seen you!?" he demanded to know. His voice raised but not enough for those in the tent to hear.

He leaned on his good leg and eyed her with a toughened stare.

"I'm sorry," she tried.

"I am extremely lenient on you boys! My instructor use to have us beat those who disobeyed him when I was your age!" he added with hostility.

"I just wanted to see for…."

"Did I say you could talk or pester me with your excuses?! I am your instructor! I am your master! You do whatever I tell you to do!" his voice was getting more and more fierce. His face was turning red and the vein in his forehead looked as though it would explode at any moment. His teeth were bared and he truly resembled his animal name.

Aramis took a step back.

"It's my job to train you boys so that you don't go out there and die in your first day as a Legionary! How can I train you if you disobey me and go running off to do whatever you want!?" he hollered. Lion seemed to be visibly shaking with anger.

"I'm sorry!" Aramis trembled.

"I said don't talk!" he snapped and struck her clean across the face with a clenched fist. She felt the harsh blow make her head spin and everything went blurry. Aramis fell to the ground tasting blood and sand in her mouth.

Lion had never struck anyone before, not like this. She lay on her stomach trying to bring her mind back together before rising to her hands and knees.

Lion stood above her, mouth gaping, and eyes wide. He had never hit one of the children like that. He looked at the writhing boy on the ground and felt his body become paralyzed.

When Aramis collected herself and managed to get on two feet she felt a surge of pain in her face but that was nothing compared to the feeling of overwhelming loss deep within. She had always liked Lion. He was tough but fair. She didn't fear him she respected him but now he terrified her.

She took a step back from him. Then two. Before she knew what she was doing she turn and ran.

"Aramis…" Lion tried. "ARAMIS!" he called out when she kept on running.

Lion didn't go after her. He couldn't. His busted knee never let him move faster than a crippled walk. He couldn't send one of the other boys after him, rules were clear. No Legion Children out of The Ditch unless it was to the mess tent. He'd be risking another sending him after Aramis.

He had just lost one, now he stood at losing another.


	6. Chapter 6

Joshua Graham sat on the blankets of his bed reading. He loved the feel of a book in his hand, the smell of the paper and the feeling of accomplishment each turn of the page brought. He'd read this book a dozen times but none of that mattered. Getting lost in the information meant he didn't have to live a moment of reality here. Suddenly his tent flap flung open.

Instinctively the Malpais Legate shot up in his bed, felt for the metal under his pillow and aimed the .45 at the intruder. His brow raised when he realized he had to lower the aim down to the small boys' height. The gun didn't seem to faze Aramis, instead, he met his threat with one of his own and threw the black book at him, narrowly missing Joshua's head. The booked smashed into the wall behind him, spilling its pages on the blankets.

Joshua remained sitting in the bed, gun poised and itching to pull the trigger but as his eyes adjusted he could see the anguish on Aramis' face along with the deep blackened bruise over his right eye that nearly swelled it shut. His teeth were clenched and he breathed heavily as rage took over his mind leaving him unaware of the seriousness of the situation he put himself in.

"Take your stupid book!" he snapped violently still standing in the doorway. He was so wound up he appeared to be hyperventilating.

"Aramis…." The Legate warned.

"There is no fucking God! Why should I believe in a man who creates a world and every time he fucks it up he just kills everyone off and tries all over again. Floods, bombs, it's all the fucking same! What kind of sick asshole gets his kicks on telling everyone how to live their loves when he can't even follow his own stupid rules?! Aramis ranted hysterically.

So the child reached his breaking point, Joshua thought. Joshua got out of bed wearing nothing more than a thin pair of white boxers. He had a visible line of tanned skin down each arm where his sleeves were always cuffed. The rest of his body was rather pale but well defined. He approached the boy with a narrowed eye and stoic look.

The Legate took a knee before Aramis and looked him in the eye. Something must have happened to upset the child.

"If serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord," The Legate recited which seemed to only enrage the child further.

"If you really are a servant of God then you are to blame for everything! You had my parents killed! You let Marcus die! Now you keep me corralled like a Brahmin with other livestock to be used at your own disposal!"

The Legate took a deep breath trying not to let his patience wean.

"I can see you'll be a tricky one," he muttered before standing up and going over to his bookshelf. "Let me see what I have here. There you are." He pulled a small hardcover book from off the shelf and approached her once again. "A personal favourite," he told him.

He took the book and looked it over.

"To Kill A Mockingbird?" he asked not recognizing the title.

"Probably the last copy," he told him as he slipped a worn out white T-shirt on. "I found it in an old burned out library when I was a small boy, not much older than you. Whatever you do, don't let anyone see you with this book," the Legate ordered.

"What's it about?" he asked as if all had been forgiven.

"A man and his two children, a boy and a girl who live in a poor town filled with poor minds. A story about growing up, overcoming prejudices, social hypocrisies and notions of propriety," he explained.

Now that he was somewhat dressed, Joshua moved back over to Aramis and examined his face.

"Lion hit me," Aramis mumbled.

"I can see that," The Legate replied holding his face and inspecting the bruise. "What did you do to warrant that? I don't ever recall hearing of Lion hitting one of his boys before." Joshua recalled that despite Lion's harshness, the man had a soft spot for children and not in some sick way some others might.

"I went up the embankment to find out what happened to Hemis' forces," Aramis spoke truthfully with a sombre tone.

"You heard then?"

Aramis nodded.

"Will Hemis be all right?" he asked.

"Not for me to say," he replied. "Who was Marcus?"

"A friend," he explained. "He completed his trials a few months ago and was attached to Hemis' Centuriae."

"I see," The Legate acknowledged.

Aramis flipped through the pages of the book before sitting down on the floor and turning to page one.

"When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow," Aramis recited.

"What are you doing?" the Legate questioned.

"Reading…" Aramis replied sheepishly.

Joshua Graham sighed and took the book back and sat on the floor beside Aramis. He began to read from its pages.

"When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow. When it healed, and Jem's fears of never being able to play football were assuaged, he was seldom self-conscious about his injury. His left arm was somewhat shorter than his right; when he stood or walked, the back of his hand was at right angles to his body, his thumb parallel to his thigh. He couldn't have cared less, so long as he could pass and punt," Joshua recited.

Aramis didn't dare interrupt. He sat on the floor of the tent listening to the Legate read seemingly lost in the story. Joshua read as he was taught to read, enunciating certain words, and changing his voice for different characters. The smile on the boy's face never faded and for the entire morning he read, Aramis sat listening.

The pair of them remained sitting on the floor reading well into the afternoon. He didn't break for lunch or tell him to finish the rest himself; he read each chapter while thinking back to another time when he first read these words. A time when one was accountable for the lessons taught in books such as these.

It was dusk when The Legate finished the novel and staggered to his feet, sore from the sedentary position all day. The bruising on Aramis' face appeared a deeper shade of blue and purple as it had this morning. He too stood up and stretched out his own achy muscles.

"You're a smart boy, Aramis, much like I was at your age but you're young and naiive. You don't have faith. You need to trust that the world always comes full circle and justice always prevails," he told him.

He knew the boy didn't understand what he meant but Aramis would figure it out some time, just not yet.

"Come on, I'll walk you back down the embankment. Lion may be slightly more lenient if I vouch for your absence all day," the Legate said as he ushered him out of his tent.

The two walked side by side down the sloping hill coming into view of the boys training below. Lion was the first to take notice of them from his perch on a stool beside The Ditch. He got off his seat and rushed as quickly as his crippled legs would carry him towards them.

"My Legate!" Lion began completely caught off guard by the Legate's presence. If it had been a Decanus or even a Centurion bringing her back, Lion would have been able to defend his inability to keep the child secure but he certainly had no excuse for The Malpais Legate.

"I ...uh..." Lion tried but Joshua interrupted.

"He's back. Hope he didn't miss too much training. I had him helping me all afternoon," Joshua spoke nonchalantly. Aramis remained hidden behind the Legate terrified to be given back to Lion.

"Help … helping you?" Lion spoke as if the thought was lost on him.

"Yes, helping me. He's back now and I won't be needing him again," the Legate assured as he reached behind himself and brought Aramis before his instructor. Joshua let the small book slide into the child's hand as he pulled him forward. Carefully Aramis slipped it in his tunic before anyone noticed the passage of items. Aramis couldn't look Lion in the eye. No doubt he was fuming with the boy.

"That's all then, carry on, Lion," the Legate spoke soft yet firm. He turned and walked back up the embankment without incident.

XXX

Lion waited till the Legate was out of sight before addressing the child at his side.

"In the tent," he ordered but there was something different about his voice; there was no anger as far as Aramis could tell.

The other boys in The Ditch pretended not to notice Aramis' return but training seemed to slow for a few seconds until they disappeared into the privacy of the tent.

Lion stood without the support of a beam but he remained hunched favouring his bad knee. Aramis barely came up to the man's waist. Her big bright eyes met his and she stood ready to accept her punishment.

Lion lowered himself painfully to one knee so they were level. Without warning his hand flung up and Aramis jumped expecting another strike but rather then feel his fist on her face, she felt his arms around her and he pulled her in for a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo. I never meant to hit you," he told her with a solemn voice. She could hear his sincerity and it pained her to see him so upset by it.

She couldn't find the words she wanted to comfort him but the silence seemed to be enough.

"You're a good kid. You all are," Lion went on to explain. "I know I'm hard on you boys but that's because when you leave The Ditch, I can't protect you anymore. If I don't make you strong, you don't stand a chance. Despite my best efforts with Marcus we lost him and I took it more personally today than I ever have. I took my frustration and grief out on you and that wasn't right. I really am sorry," he told her.

At that moment Aramis knew Lion was someone to trust and admire after all. Despite the brutal lashing, he was a man able to express empathy in a place that seemed devoid of any.

"Now, I won't be angry that you ran off and I won't even begin to describe how worried I was when you didn't come back all day, but I do need to know, how did you end up with the Legate?" he asked.

Aramis hesitated. She trusted Lion but she wasn't sure her 'friendship' with the Legate was something to boast about.

"He found me," Aramis tried.

Lion raised a brow. Something seemed to be weighing heavily on him. His heavy brow furrowed and a sneer marked his thin lips.

"Did he hurt you?" Lion asked trying to sound steady.

"No," Aramis responded sharp and stern.

"He didn't touch you?"

"No," Aramis replied seeming confused by the odd questions.

That seemed to give some relief to Lion's worry because his face softened slightly.

"All right," he spoke in a calming manner. Go join the other boys out in The Ditch. We wont speak of this again, understood?" he asked.

Aramis nodded vigorously and smiled her kind, tiny tooth filled smile that lifted anyone's mood.

"Get!" he told her flashing his own sharpened canines.

With that, she took off to rejoin the others in training leaving Lion to ponder just what The Legate was attempting to do keeping a pet among the ranks.

It had been just over four years now when Caesar moved his Legion from Camp Munda to the ruined city of Flagstaff, Arizona. Camp Munda remained a large outpost where an entire Centuraie remained but Caesar had a vision for his capital and he saw it in Flagstaff. The camp took several months to establish. Left completely abandoned, The Legion sought to restructure the entire city to suit their needs.

A massive wall was erected around the capital just as it had been at Camp Munda. There were copious amounts of debris and building materials to build the structure. The wall stood nearly fifteen feet high and reinforced with scrap metal, brick, stone and rebar. Along the outside of the wall, massive sharpened stakes stuck outwards like gnarly teeth ready to sink into anyone who dared to challenge the wall.

Flagstaff was nearly fives times the size of Camp Munda and to get from one side of the settlement to the other took roughly twenty minutes at a quick walk.

For the first few months, living conditions in Flagstaff were atrocious. The bleeding beasts, overwhelming human populous and lack of proper sanitation were a breeding ground for pathogens and disease. Many lives were lost simply due to illnesses unseen since the Dark Ages. When Caesar became aware of the seriousness of the situation, he ordered the slaves to build proper latrines and a pipeline be dug from each latrine to a small pond beyond the wall. This ensured all human waste was outside his capital. The pond was also used to bury the lesser dead or dispose of animal carcasses.

On days that were stifling hot; which was most, the sun baked the pond. To a make a bad situation worse, if a westward wind swept across the landscape, it wafted the foul stench of the pond into the settlement. The pond quickly became known as the, "Shit Pond" but it was the price to pay to have waste kept outside their city.

The camp was strategically separated once again as it had been in Camp Munda this time, everything was just on a much larger scale.

The sturdy log gate that lowered liked a drawbridge to permit those to come and go faced westward. A long road lined with fire lit torches and countless crucifixes led from the main gate directly into the centre of the camp where Caesar's personal War Tent and Headquarters stood on it's elevated mound.

To the left of the main road were the barracks for the Legionaries. Structures built from the same material as the wall housed twelve to each building. The lowest ranks were in dimly lit shanties while the higher ranks were given the nicer accommodations. Only the most privileged received a single unit just for them. The entire area where the Legion soldiers lived was nicknamed The Fly Trap due to the overwhelming amount of flies that pestered the men on account of the animal carcasses left to bleed or tan.

On the right side of the main road were the slave's quarters. Structures built with roofs made of plywood and walls of paper-thin canvas. Each one was about the size of the Legionary barracks but housed about fifty slaves per structure. None complained because it was a step up from Camp Munda.

Behind the War Tent was another arena built in the grand splendour that only Caesar himself could have designed. It was the same size as The Crater with the same kind of wall surrounding it but every few meters; there was a break in the wall where a tall telephone pole was dug in acting like a pillar that held up the sky. Caesar even ensured there were bleachers so spectators could watch the carnage unfold in The Bull Ring as he called it. Of course, there was a special bleacher built just for Caesar and his closest minions complete with his very own throne made of the bones of those slain in his name. It was a menacing looking chair put together with no real plan other than placing bones to ensure they mashed together to form the structure. Long femur bones splayed out like a fan for the backrest. Only Caesar was permitted to sit in such a chair.

Behind The Bull Ring were the houses belonging to Caesar and his highest ranks, a place off limits for anyone who did not wish to be crucified. The houses for ones such as The Malpais Legate and Cerberus were quite elaborate resembling large log cabins complete with wood floors and who knows what else inside.

The Legion Children were given a small corner tucked behind The Fly Trap down a small hill complete with a training ring the children called, "The Cub's Ring" and the tent that housed them was known as The Cub's Den. Lion didn't have much of a say on the name. When word got out, it seemed to have stuck instantly.

The small training arena was about the same size as their previous one and new dummies and weapons were created to help with drills. The Cub's Den resembled their previous tent back at Camp Munda with a large cooking fire in the very centre and the boys lined in rows to the left of it. To the right was Lion's own private spot complete with newfound walls for privacy and a slightly larger eating area with a long black rectangular table.

The move had been exhausting but once complete, there was a strong sense of unity here and morale was never higher. The snow-capped mountains that encased the lands were a breathtaking view that all appreciated not just as something to look at but the mountains protected the border.

Flagstaff was a place that saw very little rain even by today's standards. The terrain was harsh and arid. Dust storms were common sweeping through the area like a wall of sand swallowing everything in its path and covering the structures of Flagstaff in a fine layer of filth. If one was caught out in one of these storms, they found themselves choking on sand and many met their demise from suffocation.

The twins were now twelve and with time saw the coming and going of other children. Despite his concerns, Reed went on to score exceptionally well at his trials and was placed with Centurion Thoros alongside his old friends Sharp Knife and Argo. At nearly nineteen, Reed had matured into an outstanding Legionary. He wasn't the biggest or the strongest out there but he was already demonstrating his brilliant tactics, which had been utilized in many successful raids. The children knew it was a matter of time before he was promoted. Lion seemed to relish in the opportunity to share stories of the boys he had once trained at the dining table.

With The Cub's Ring being so close to The Fly Trap, the children were able to see their friends quite frequently. A silent nod or smile was just as good as a long conversation. A head nod meant they were doing fine. A smile meant they just got back from a raid and all was well.

Deegan, Jet and Yankee all went on to join other Centurions some time ago.

Rusty, the mute African-American boy was now the oldest yet he was unable to obtain any leadership role on account of his inability to talk. It didn't seem to affect him in anyway. He hit a growth spurt at thirteen and was now taller than most, even some of the Legionaries. There was no doubt he'd keep on growing and would one day be taller than Lion but maybe half the weight. Still, there was no one who could match the boy's speed. Rusty was a natural sprinter. When he led the runs in the morning, everyone cursed under their breath knowing his pace would leave them gasping for air and begging for death.

It was Huck and Athos who seemed to be constantly battling for leadership roles. Both boys had grown increasingly aggressive towards one another. They were unable to spar with each other because it often left one seriously injured. If they weren't trying to kill each other in training, the glares these boys gave each other emanated a heat wave of hate that all could feel. Lion did his best to ensure the two boys had very little interaction with one another.

A year later saw Rusty pass his trials and join Centurion Thoros as well. The loss of Rusty saw the gaining of a new arrival though much too young to join the Legion Children just yet. A raiding group led by Decanus Sipher returned one evening with the infant the Decanus named Dead Sea on account of the location they had been raiding. It was the first young child to be taken ever since the Painted Rock children joined and even that seemed like ages ago. Many of the infants were either dying at a young age or being female meaning they couldn't join the Legion Children.

Dead Sea's arrival in Flagstaff was a morale booster to many who thought the Legion would fizzle out due to its inability to train more children. The women slaves began receiving more training on prenatal care in hopes the survival rate of children, primarily young boys, would improve.

It fell on one of the Painted Rock children to ensure Dead Sea grew up strong and healthy so he could begin his training at the earliest possible time. That responsibility went to Seekra, the only known girl of Painted Rock. At age fifteen Seekra was entrusted with the infant as she was undergoing the most training as a midwife and primitive healer. The boys, along with Aramis had very little contact with Seekra since they were split apart when they were fist brought into The Legion but when they were brought to Flagstaff, they were permitted to mingle a bit more.

The rules in Flagstaff, apart from staying away from the high rank's cabins were more lenient and the Legion Children began interacting more with other Legionaries and slaves. It all seemed as part of the grand scheme to try and swell numbers.

Seekra had grown up to be very attractive with straw-coloured hair with a natural wave in it when she wore it down. She was fair skinned and often had to wear more rags to cover herself so not to be burned though the added benefit was that it also didn't draw too much attention from the wolves that would prey on her in time. She was slender yet far from frail. She didn't mind doing the hard labour most female slaves tried to avoid. It was no surprise that she was starting to get noticed around the camp especially by a pair of familiar eyes belonging to Athos, however, Athos was not alone in his pursuit. Titus also wished to one day get to know Seekra better though his intentions perhaps carried more physical terms.

Yet, despite the boy's efforts, it was Aramis who seemed to hold a place firm to Seekra. The two were often seen speaking plainly and laughing at various things. When questioned about it from Athos, Aramis simply said she and Seekra were friends and for him to remember, she was still a she. Titus, on the other hand, didn't know Aramis' little secret and his jealousy and anger towards her rivalled that of Huck and Athos' detestation.

Another bitter rivalry meant training was even more difficult since their numbers were so few. Huck and Titus never left each others side and Athos adopted Zen as a partner when Reed left. This often left Aramis to train on her own or convince Athos to work with her when they were finished in the evening, not that she minded. She rather Zen get as much work in as possible than fall behind.

Zen still hadn't come out of his shell much. He remained some what soft spoken and passive. Every time he hit Athos he followed it with an apology, which would usually send Lion ranting and raving in fit of frustration that the boy had as much killer desire as he had cartilage in his busted knee, whatever that meant. Zen had grown quite a bit and despite being two years younger than Athos, was about the same height if not slightly shorter. His black messy hair was just a touch too long and being somewhat lean made him look more like a girl than Aramis did.

Aramis was fortunate to remain slow to develop physically into a woman. Her hair lightened with age going from a dirty ash blonde to an almost off white beige. Every week Athos would take his knife to her hair and keep it nice and short so not to extenuate any feminine features. It wasn't the neatest of haircuts but the messy short spikes kept her looking youthful and boyish.

Athos' hair followed that of his sisters but he allowed Lion to keep it even shorter with a pair of trimmers they managed to acquire. Despite the growing number of differences between the twins: Athos was slightly taller, his jaw was starting to square, and his muscles more defined, the two still remained looking relatively the same.

The twins differed further in their priorities in training. While Athos thought training in The Cub's Ring for all hours of the day and into the night would benefit him most, Aramis took to reading the books that The Legate would leave for her.

Every full moon a new book would find its way under the furs of her cot. She couldn't explain how The Legate was doing it nor did she care. She'd leave the one she finished behind for him to collect. He'd always leave a note for her explaining the importance of each piece of literature and she would leave her own explaining her thoughts on each of the works. That was the only communication either of them shared since the move to Flagstaff. Lion didn't seem to mind her reading and Aramis often wondered if he was involved in the passing of the books onto her. The one book she refused to hand back over was The Legate's only copy of, To Kill a Mockingbird though he had never asked for it back. It was her favourite and she must have read it a couple dozen times to the point where she could recite whole pages without looking at the words.

XXX

Training was put on hold most of the morning on account of a large dust storm that blanketed the capital in a thick layer of grimy sand. The children were feeling restless and no one liked being shut inside. There were only so many make-work projects Lion could come up with to keep them busy. When the air finally did clear they made their way back out into the Cubs Ring and began digging out their training aids.

A skin-crawling scream caused everyone to jolt and quickly look for its source. Lion lay on the ground rolling in the fine dust holding his bad knee. A long spear lay beside him half-buried by sand. Athos was the first one to his side and called for the others to come help.

"What happened?!" Athos questioned in a panic.

"Fucking thing! I musta tripped over it!" Lion snapped still writhing on the ground. "Knee just buckled!"

By this time everyone was at Lion's side waiting for direction as to how to help. Huck bent down and tried to get an arm underneath their instructor but Lion just pushed his arm away.

"Aye! Don't touch me!" Lion barked and Huck withdrew looking startled.

"Lion, we gotta get you up," Athos explained for once seeming to defend Huck's actions.

"Just leave me here awhile! I'll be fine!" Lion ordered.

The children looked at one another unsure whether leave him or still try to assist.

"Back to training," Athos decided for them. "Myself and Titus will stay will him."

Everyone seemed to agree with that and went back to their tasks. Aramis looked to her brother who gave her a slight nod letting her know it was fine. He had this.

"I said I don't need your help!" Lion hollered getting more agitated.

"And we're not helping. We're simply standing here," Athos spoke back indifferently.

Lion grumbled and groaned under his breath. When it was clear he wasn't going to be able to get up on his own he mumbled for Athos and Titus to get him into a chair. Both boys kept a stoic look on their faces as Athos helped Lion to his feet and Titus retrieved a chair. Neither boy made a snarky remark or told Lion they knew he'd need them, they simply and respectfully did as the injured man requested.

The knee didn't look deformed or misplaced but the jarring certainly didn't make the joint and ligaments any stronger.

"Fuck….." Lion groaned knowing this was as bad as it could get. Years of minimal activity and progression down the drain. Perhaps now Caesar would see him as a wounded animal with no more use and have him put down.

"Would you like to lie down?" Titus asked trying to hide any sympathy so Lion didn't feel vulnerable.

Reluctantly Lion nodded and the two boys managed to get him back inside the tent. When Lion was in his own bed he pulled the two boys in closely and glared at them.

"Continue on training. If anyone comes by, say I went to go get more water," Lion ordered.

Both boys nodded in unison and left their instructors' side.

When training was over for the evening, Athos went to go check on the man and see how he was doing. Athos knocked on the large piece of plywood that separated their instructor from the children. A pained, "come in," could be heard from the other side of the board. Athos pushed aside the curtain used as a door and saw instantly the state of Lion's knee. It was very swollen and quite red. When Athos touched it he could feel the heat emanating off the injury.

"Looks worse than it is," Lion assured him with a sharp grin with his animalistic teeth.

"Looks pretty bad," Athos countered.

"I'll be good in the morning. Make sure the others eat and are in bed at the right time," Lion ordered dismissing the severity.

Athos nodded and left the instructor's room. Aramis was waiting just outside with a worried look on her face.

"How bad is it?" she asked trying not to be overheard by anyone else.

"Bad. It's really swollen and I don't know what we can do to help. He won't be able to walk on it for some time," Athos explained.

"Can we get some medicine from the slaves?" Aramis asked.

"Like what? They won't have anything for this," Athos concluded.

"What about Devil's Claw?" Aramis suggested. Athos raised a brow. Devil's Claw was a plant their mother used to go out and pick whenever someone was hurt in their tribe. She said it had natural healing abilities and took away their pain.

"And where would we get that?" Athos questioned seeming to dismiss the idea with his tone.

"The base of the mountains. I bet it grows there," Aramis fought back. Athos went quiet as he thought about it.

"Don't be stupid, Aramis. You're not going out there so just let me worry about this, all right?" Athos finished.

Aramis sighed and gave a slight nod.

"Come on, let's get super," Athos mumbled.

XXX

That night, when a sliver of the moon hung high over Flagstaff, Aramis crawled out from her furs and slipped unchallenged out of their barracks. Athos didn't give her enough credit. She could help if he would just trust her abilities. The night was warm, dry and a light breeze felt soothing on her weathered skin. The sky was an inky dark blue yet no stars were visible on this night.

As she learned so many times before, shadows provided the best protection. Flagstaff was much larger but navigating through it was just as simple. When she came to the large wall that surrounded the settlement she tried to look for any weak point she could exploit and gain access to the outside.

Sure enough, there was a small gap at the bottom she was able to dig out and slip under. Once on the other side, the realization of where she was hit her suddenly. She was free. She could run and put an entire nights distance between her and any search party that would come looking. She looked back towards the wall that acted as both her home and her cage. Then there was Athos, could she leave him behind? What about Lion who was unknowingly counting on her for the remedy she knew would benefit him.

Without a pause, she turned and ran out into the remnants of the city not once looking back at the wall.

The following morning Athos woke to see his sister's cot empty beside his own. Alarmed, he shot up and looked around the barracks for any sign of her. No one else was out of bed and the entire place was silent.

A wave of panic rushed through him for that full second until someone pushed aside the curtain to Lion's room and emerged out. It was Aramis. Athos breathed a huge sigh of relief and beckoned his sister over with one hand.

"What were you doing?!" he demanded.

"Just bringing Lion some water. I couldn't sleep very well," Aramis lied effortlessly. Athos was better off left in the dark about her night's escapade. She didn't need to worry about him.

"How's he doing?" he asked.

Aramis gave a slight smile and began to get her things ready for the day.

"I don't know what you saw but the knee doesn't look too bad. I think he'll be training with us today after all."


	7. Chapter 7

The trials were less than a year away for the twins. Aramis and Athos, now fourteen had adjusted without issue to life within the Legion. Neither one struggled with the demands of their training nor did they worry about anything not going according to plan. It wasn't until Aramis woke sometime in the night in discomfort that everything they had worked so hard for became tested.

Something didn't feel right and when she looked beneath her furs she could see exactly what was wrong. She was bleeding. Thinking she had been injured sometime in the night she frantically looked for any wound but couldn't find any nor did she feel any pain. So what was bleeding?!

"Athos!" she whispered over to her still sleeping brother.

He rolled over and groaned.

"Athos, wake up!" she begged trying not to wake anyone but him.

His one eye opened and glared at her. When he saw the distress on her face he rose up suddenly.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I'm bleeding!" she told him frantically.

Athos' face scrunched up and his mouth pulled to one side to display his confusion.

"What happened?!" he asked getting out of bed to be at her side.

"I don't know!" she replied as he voice became more frantic.

"What do you mean you don't know?!" Athos was getting irate. He saw the amount of blood. It certainly was a lot and worthy of concern.

"Oh Fuck!" Aramis cried out. "Athos, I'm bleeding from…. there," she muttered trying not to let her emotions get the better of her.

"What?!" he questioned.

"You know….there!" she squeaked in a panic and gesturing to her crotch.

"Fuck!" Athos exclaimed as he looked around the tent. "I'll be back!" he told her.

"What?! Where are you going?!"

"To find Reed. He'll know what to do!" he promised.

"You can't sneak into a Legionary barracks!"

"Watch me," he spat back at her.

With that Athos took off into the night. It was peaceful and quiet letting him slip undetected through the settlement. When he reached the barracks that housed the Legionaries he slowly opened the door. It creaked and spilled the outside light of the moon into the room but the heavy snores from inside drowned out any unwanted noise. Athos silently moved around the room trying to look each sleeping man in the face until he found Reed.

"Reed" Athos whispered.

Reed didn't even flinch.

"Reed!" Athos tried a little louder.

Athos brought a hand to the young man's face and plugged his nose. Reed coughed and pawed at his face until his eyes shot open in alarm. Athos instinctively covered Reed's mouth so he didn't call out in a panic.

"It's me!" Athos informed.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?!" Reed barked in a low whisper.

"It's Aramis, she's hurt…. Well, she's bleeding…."

Even in the darkness Athos could see the unsettling look on Reed's face. His one eye squinted and he gave a weird pout.

"Bleeding?" Reed asked.

"Bleeding," Athos replied once again.

"Where is she bleeding?" Reed asked.

"A place boys like her don't bleed from!" Athos snapped letting his voice get a little too loud.

"Easy, easy!" Reed hushed. "This is normal, girl's bleed."

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Athos questioned.

"Look, just get some dressings and make sure no one sees it ok? It will stop on it's own in a few days, trust me!" Reed told him.

"Dressings?" Athos asked.

"Dressings! Make sure she keeps them where she's bleeding otherwise everyone will see and your big secrets blown," Reed warned.

"Dressings, got it!" Athos replied with a nod and began to make his way out of the barracks. When he was outside he wondered where he would get dressings. Medical supplies were few and far between but perhaps the midwives of the camp had some available. Athos rushed to the midwives accommodations hoping to find what he needed there. The slave women here luckily had a tent so he was able to slip up one side and enter that way. Sure enough several first aid kits were fastened to the walls. Athos was able to get a few packs of gauze out of each one before withdrawing back to the Den.

Aramis was sitting up on her cot when Athos came through the flimsy plywood door.

"Where the fuck were you?!" she snapped angrily.

"Shut up!" he barked handing her the packages of gauze. "Here!"

"What the hell am I suppose to do with this?!" her voice still a harsh whisper.

"Direct pressure? I don't know! Reed said it would stop in a few days. Use this to hide the bleeding. Apparently, it's normal," Athos assured.

"This is normal?!"

"Apparently for girls, yes!"

The colour seemed to vanish from Aramis' face, mouth gaping, and eyes looking frantic. Aramis was beyond mortified.

"Don't look!" she barked. Athos had no issue giving his sister all the privacy she needed.

"This is fucked up," she groaned. "I need to replace this cot material!"

"You are on your own with that one! I am going back to bed." Athos drew the line at that and crawled back into his furs.

Aramis cut away the fabric of her cot with her knife and hauled it outside, away from their shack. She had no choice but to pitch it in one of the various fires outside. Luckily there were enough skins on the tanning rack so no one would notice if one went missing. She hauled the Brahmin skin back into the Den and began to stitch it in place. The whole process took about an hour but when it was done, no one would have guessed she'd replaced the cots skin.

She climbed back into bed feeling as though she were wearing a diaper. It wasn't comfortable but if it kept her secret, she had to do it. Just a few days Athos said. No problem...

The next day of training wasn't exactly made easier by the wads of gauze tucked into her underwear. Athos snickered every time he saw her fidget awkwardly. Being a girl sucked. It was awkward enough when Lion had to explain what wet dreams were when Athos started to get them back when he was eleven or so. Lion had sat the two alleged boys down and explained the strange phenomenon. Aramis had wanted to throw up while Athos nodded in grateful understanding. What she was going through now was probably worse.

By the time training was over she felt so uncomfortable and disgusted that she just wanted to crawl into bed and die. Her stomach felt tight and ached diffusely. She felt weak and lethargic. Sleep truly was the best thing she could do. She asked Lion if she could skip dinner on account of the pain she claimed was probably food poisoning from lunch. There was no mistaking how sickly Aramis looked and felt so he agreed to let her miss the night's meal.

Sleep came quickly despite the discomfort. She had no idea how she would make it through another day like this.

XXX

Athos woke hearing something in the middle of the night. It sounded as though Aramis was talking to someone. He rolled over in his cot and saw the state of his sister through sleepy eyes.

"Aramis?" he called out to her. There was no reply. Something was wrong and he knew it instantly. Both eyes were shut, her sheets were soaked with sweat and she looked red in the face.

"Aramis!?" he called as he shot out of bed and hurried to her side. Her eyes remained closed and when he tried to force them open he could see they were rolled back. She was groaning and mumbling things he couldn't make out. When he felt her face it was hot to the touch yet her extremities were pale in colour. She shook like she had a severe case of chills.

Athos rushed over to Lion's secluded area and tugged at the massive man's arm.

"Lion wake up!" Aramis is sick!" he hollered at the man.

"Are you fucking nuts?!" Lion snarled not grasping all of what Athos said at first.

"It's Aramis, he's really sick!" Athos pleaded.

Lion rose from his bed and staggered to his feet. Wiping the sleep away from his eyes he followed Athos out of his room and into the children's space. Athos pointed to Aramis' cot.

Even from where they were they could see her red and sweaty face.

Lion rushed to Aramis' side and noted the severity of the situation. He pulled the furs off her and saw a massive pool of blood beneath the teen's body.

"When the fuck did this happen!?" Lion shouted glaring at Athos. Athos was stunned with a gaping mouth and the inability to blink. How could she have bled through all that gauze so quickly?

"Wait! Lion I should take him to the midwives. They'll be able to fix him!" Athos suggested growing concerned Lion was getting to close.

By this point the commotion had woke some of the other boys who were now crowding around.

"Get back!" Lion snapped and they all withdrew a few feet.

"Lion I should hurry!" Athos tried but Lion didn't seem to acknowledge the suggestion.

"Where's he bleeding from!?" Lion asked himself trying to find evidence of a wound on Aramis. Finally, he pulled down Aramis's boxers that she always slept in and cringed when he saw the wads of blood soaked gauze kept in place by the tight fabric. The gauze managed to hide the darker secret now on the cusp of being discovered.

"Lion!" Athos grabbed at the man's hand but it was too late. Lion pulled out the blood soaked gauze and just about jumped out of his skin. Without warning, he grabbed Athos by the throat and dragged him out of the tent.

"All of you stay here!" he shouted in a hostile manner no one had ever heard before.

When Lion and Athos were outside, Lion threw the boy to the ground savagely.

"Explain!" he hollered. Blood rushed to his face turning him a scarlet red. Every vein in his body looked at though it would explode any second. He paced back and forth as if toying with listening to Athos explain or stomping on his skull and ending the boy's life then and there.

Athos looked up at Lion with deeply saddened eyes. He didn't dare move from his spot on the ground.

"I made a promise. To protect him ….her," Athos began. "Our mother made me promise. She's my sister… I'd do anything for her."

"Who else knows!?" Lion ordered.

"Reed. Just Reed. Oh, and a slave girl." Athos assured as his body trembled.

"What about Zen!?"

"He was too young to know us back when we were at Painted Rock."

Lion continued to pace around.

"A girl….. A FUCKING GIRL!" Lion let loose in a violent whisper so no one would hear but it was clear he wanted to shout it for the world to understand his frustration.

"She would have ended up a slave, like all the other girls. She's not a slave, Lion," Athos tried.

"We're all fucking slaves your stupid boy!" Lion snapped back harshly. "You think falsifying her as a Legionary was a better fate for her!?"

"She's exceptional! One of the best you've ever trained and you know it!" Athos begged. "If you reveal what she is … it will be a fate worse than death and … I couldn't live to see her go through that," Athos explained. "I'd sooner end her life myself." There was a real sense of hopelessness in his voice now.

Lion eyed the boy with wild accusing eyes that smoldered with rage.

"Not a bad suggestion," Lion grumbled. "Killing her may be the most humane thing we can do. If I told anyone else, she would surely suffer immensely as you said and I wouldn't wish that kind of torture on my enemies."

Athos' eyes sunk to the ground.

"You'll have to kill us both. I'm just as guilty as she is," Athos explained.

"I can cover the death of one child but not two. No, you will live with what you two have done for the rest of your days!" Lion warned.

"I promise you won't find me alive long if she is killed," Athos replied tenderly.

Lion's pacing intensified. He seemed to just hobble a few paces before turning and hobbling a few more.

"Fuck. Fuck!" Lion kept chanting to himself. "What do you expect me to do?! I can't train her! I can't keep this a secret!" Lion defected.

"You have trained her. She's nearly there! You won't have to keep it a secret long. In a year she passes the trials and she's in the ranks! You'll never have to see her again!" Athos tried.

"And what if she's discovered? I'll be crucified and she'll be raped till she's split in two!" Lion painted harshly.

Athos was shaking. He was pleading for the life of his sister with the man who held her fate in his hand.

"You two are starting to look less and less alike as you get older. All it takes is one slip like this. Fuck! It's all the little things, Athos! The girl won't even need to shave in the morning!" Lion explained.

"I'll teach her to be a man!" Athos pleaded.

"And who will teach her to be a woman? There are something's about the female body we won't ever understand," Lion defended. "This is a perfect example!"

"Seekra, the slave girl. She knows Aramis is a girl," Athos explained. "Seekra can help her. This doesn't need to get out. I promise you Lion, no one will ever find out. She's worth more to The Legion alive, as a Legionary."

Atho knelt silently. Lion continued to pace until the bandages on his leg loosened and he stopped. He looked down at the medicated wraps around his knee. He sighed and flopped down to sit on a large rock with his chin resting in his hands.

"Your broth …. sister made this," Lion began. "The day I tripped on that spear, you remember?"

Athos nodded. Lion went on.

"She must'a snuck out of Flagstaff that night …. She seems pretty good at sneaking around. I know she thinks those books of hers are a secret but I've known about that for years. Anyways, she came into my room that night with these plants; crushed 'em up and smeared the paste on these bandages. A natural painkiller she called it. I can't remember the last time my leg felt this good before the injury."

Athos remembered that day like it was yesterday. He had made it clear Aramis was not to leave Flagstaff but clearly she had gone anyways and came back with the Devil's Claw. He couldn't help but smirk at his sister's defiance.

Athos met Lion's disgruntled expression with his own look of despair.

"You know what else? I bet she had a chance to run. She was on the other side of that wall. The thought must have crossed her mind to just put this place as far behind her and start anew. Maybe I'm giving her too much credit but I think your sister is much smarter than most of the men here. Something stronger made her risk her life and not only find that plant but to come back. A girl came back to be one of us. You're absolutely right, Athos, she would be an exceptional Legionary but if she were ever discovered, I can't even begin to describe the horrors she would face," Lion spoke.

"She wont be discovered. I promise you, Lion I will do everything in my power to ensure the secret never gets out," Athos tried.

Lion pondered this then nodded slowly and stood from the rock.

"For her sake and yours, you better mean that," Lion spoke cautiously before returning to the tent.

Athos couldn't believe it. Had he actually convinced Lion to let her live?! He breathed a massive sigh of relief before following Lion back inside the tent. Lion was already standing over the feverish body of Aramis.

"Seekra?" Lion asked.

Athos nodded.

Lion scooped the comatose teenager into his arms ensuring the furs still covered her.

"Let's go," he ordered. "The rest of you, back to bed. We'll be back." The two of them made their way across the settlement towards the slave's quarters.

"Which one is hers?" Lion asked.

Athos pointed to Shelter Four. Lion climbed up the steps and while holding Aramis in one arm balancing her on his knee, he rammed on the door. No doubt everyone inside was awake hearing the thundering fist at their door. A young girl in tattered rags no older than ten answered, keeping her eyes respectively to the ground when she saw the man before her.

"Seekra," Lion demanded.

The small girl nodded and slipped back inside the dark shanty to get Seekra.

The tall, young, straw-coloured blonde answered the door looking tired and perplexed. When she saw Athos behind the mountain of a man her brow raised. It was then she saw the small frail figure in the goliath's arms shaking uncontrollably and knew it was serious.

"Bring him this way," Seekra told them pushing past them and heading towards the small medical tent.

"You mean her," Lion corrected.

Seekra stopped mid step and turned suddenly with a dumbstruck look on her face completely caught off guard by what Lion just said.

"Excuse me?" she tried to play off.

"He knows," Athos spoke up running past her and into the makeshift medical tent.

Seekra took another second to regain her composure and followed Athos into the tent and showed them to a simple metal table to place her down on.

"What's wrong with her?" Seekra asked.

Athos shook his head.

"Sepsis," Lion spoke up and placed Aramis gently down on the medical table.

"Sepsis? ... From what?" Seekra demanded.

"Show her!" Lion snapped at Athos.

Athos reluctantly pulled off the furs covering his sister. Seekra knew right away the magnitude of the situation.

"Shit! I should have seen this coming!" she told herself as she pulled out all the blood soaked gauze.

"You're an idiot, Athos!" Seekra scolded.

"How was I suppose to know!?" he defended.

Seekra must have known he wasn't to blame for this. No one was. She checked Aramis' radial pulse.

"I can't find it," she informed the two men as she went for the carotid. "It's weak but palpable. Her blood pressure is too low. If we don't get it up her organs will start to fail and we'll lose her."

Aramis' fever was so severe she was drying the cool shredded rags Seekra kept putting on her forehead in minutes.

"Will she be alright?" Athos asked, his voice getting choked up.

"I don't know. Her blood is literally killing her. The infection's too severe for her body to fight without antibiotics and we don't have anything like that here. Athos, get one of the fourteen gauge needles from that drawer and an IV line," Seekra ordered.

Athos got the necessary items for her.

"Sit in that chair," she rushed.

Athos sat in a small metal chair beside the gurney Aramis lay on.

Seekra knelt beside him and pulled at his arm.

"Hey! What are you doing?! I don't need help!" Athos shouted.

"Shut up! I am taking your blood. You are siblings and I am banking you have the same blood type being twins and all. It's a long shot but I may be able to boost her immune response by using your blood to not only help fight the infection but keep her blood pressure up. I'll start and IV as well so we literally pump her full of fresh fluids. Your blood should also prevent a fluid overload so her blood doesn't become too diluted," Seekra explained.

Neither Athos nor Lion said a single world. The young woman seemed to know what she was doing so Athos held out his arm and accepted the needle without a fuss. A small baggy began to fill with his blood and Athos watched as Seekra attached another baggy with some kind of water substance to a poll and poked Aramis with a similar needle attached to tubing. The stream from the clear bag was rather steady and when Athos had filled his own baggy, Seekra poked Aramis in the opposite arm to let the blood mix as well.

"That's it then?" Lion asked leaning in over the young unconscious teen.

"All we can do is wait and hope. As long as her kidneys still function, she should stand a chance," Seekra told them.

"This is what they teach you slaves?" Lion asked.

"My tribe taught me these things," Seekra snapped back angrily. "Back when they were all alive."

"Seekra…" Athos murmured. "Lion's the reason we're here."

Seekra glared at the brute of a man.

"Whatever," she mumbled as she looked back to Aramis. "She'll need more blood. If I take too much from you, I may end up with two patients," she added with a slight chuckle. "You both better stick around."

Athos had no issue with that.

"If there's anything you need, I'm here," Athos assured her. Lion rolled his eyes seeing his young Legionary in training swoon for the pretty slave girl, how pathetic and yet predictable, Athos knew.

It was nearly four in the morning when Seekra took the last bit of blood she would need from Athos and began the transfusion into Aramis.

"I think we should be ok," Seekra told them. "If I were you, I'd let Athos have the day off. He doesn't have much blood circulating in there to perfuse his already weak brain," she teased.

Even Lion smirked at the joke.

"I like this one," he admitted pointing his large thumb at Seekra. "How long will she need to remain here?"

"Better give me the morning. Just to be sure her fever comes down. That's when we know we're winning. She'll need to rest all day though," Seekra explained.

Lion nodded understanding the terms. "I'll be back at noon to collect her then," Lion informed.

"Bye Seekra," Athos spoke up moving towards the door of the medical tent.

"Move it…." Lion snarled ushering the boy out.

When they were outside the tent Lion smacked Athos up the backside of his head.

"Twit!" he mocked.

"What the fuck!" Athos exclaimed rubbing the back of his head.

"Keep a level head about you, boy. Slave girls don't belong to just one and one as cute as her wont go to a Legionary Recruit as pathetic as you," Lion barked back harshly.

Athos smirked defiantly.

"Maybe I wont be a recruit long. Maybe I'll try out for the Pretorian Guard ... or be a Centurion!" Athos replied sheepishly.

"You survive three matches in The Bull Ring and maybe I'll believe it," Lion teased back.

The joking ceased as they turned away from the medical tent and started back towards The Cubs Den.

"Lion?" Athos spoke up.

"What?"

"Thank you."

Lion raised a thick brow and eyed the young teen. Athos knew he'd struck the right kind of nerve. Lion could play the brute all he wanted but deep down, he cared.

Suddenly something caught the corner of Lion's eyes.

"What's that?" he asked out loud seeing some one running ahead of them.

Athos knew instantly who it was.

"Huck…" he spoke astonished and broke out in a sprint towards the other teen.

"Athos!" Lion called after him in a raised whisper but Athos was tearing off like a crazed animal. There was no way Lion could chase after him.

Huck looked over his shoulder seeing Athos coming full stride for him. Huck ran as fast as he could but Athos was closing in. Flagstaff was massive and there was no way Huck would be at The Cubs Den before Athos caught up to him. He turned and faced Athos with a cold glare.

Athos stopped when he was just five or so paces from Huck.

"Enjoying the night out?" Athos growled.

"Just out for a stroll," Huck defected angrily.

"A stroll or a quick peek?" Athos accused.

"What are you talking about?!" Huck snapped.

"What were you doing following us?!"

"I wasn't following you!"

"So you just happened to be coming from the slave quarters too?"

"Maybe I was getting some action…."

"Don't play me for a fool! What did you see!?" Athos demanded.

"Nothing…" Huck lied and Athos knew it.

"What did you see!?" Athos' voice was getting more heated.

A twisted smile played on Huck's face.

"Your sisters one hot piece of ass when she isn't playing soldier," Huck admitted cruelly. "I bet everyone wants to know what secret you and our instructor have been keeping," he threatened.

Athos' eyes went large.

"You wouldn't dare," Athos warned.

"That all depends … what will you do for my silence?" Huck pestered.

"What do you want?"

"She can start by putting her mouth on this!" Huck teased gesturing to his groin.

Athos rushed forward but Huck countered and jumped back.

"Whoa now, dog! One more move like that and I'll yell it for the entire camp to hear!" Huck snapped.

Athos remained very still but his teeth were bared, his fists clenched and leaned in like some invisible force was holding him to the spot … though at any moment it looked as though it would release its hold.

Don't worry, Athos. I'll keep your little secret so long as you do whatever I say, whenever I say it. You and that slut of a sister of yours," Huck demanded.

What choice did Athos have?

"All right, Huck," Athos grimaced and felt his body go lucid.

"Good boy," Huck spoke cheekily and turned triumphantly to make his way back to The Cubs Den. That's when Athos saw the rock at his feet - small enough that it fit in his hand but large enough to do the deed. He bent down and cupped his fingers around the cold rough surface. In that instant, he was on top of Huck and pummeling him with the large rock violently. There was no chance for Huck to get his arms up or defend himself. Athos sat on Huck's chest raising the rock high above his own head and bringing it down on Huck's face until he felt the body go limp beneath him. Huck's leg twitched as the muscles convulsed in their last moment of impulse. Athos remained sitting on the boy's chest even as the sound of Lions shuffle could be heard coming for him.

"What have you done!?" Lion snarled seeing the mess of brain matter, bone and blood spilt on the sand. Athos remained shaking with rage.

"He saw everything," Athos spoke ever so softly.

"So you smashed his head in!?" Lion roared, his temper rising drastically.

Athos turned his head back slowly and looked at Lion. Athos' face was splattered with red splotches that dropped down off his chin.

"You told me to protect her secret at any cost. I am keeping my word," Athos murmured coldly. Lion would know now what it cost Athos to keep a promise such as this. He shed his childhood right then in there. It mixed with the blood of the other youth and sank deep into in to the sand.

"Clean yourself up and get inside. Don't speak a word of this to anyone!" Lion warned.

Athos looked confused. What was Lion doing?

"I said get!" Lion snapped. Athos jumped to his feet and ran for The Cubs Den.

Lion looked at the mess at his feet. The sun would be rising soon. He didn't have much time. He picked up the teen on his shaky legs and carried him up towards the bluffs. When he was standing overlooking the ground some sixty feet below he tossed the boy over and watched him land with a /thump/ below. Lion turned and began to kick the blood trail in the sand so there was no evidence of the cover-up. Even the spot where the deed had been done was wiped clean by Lion before the sun came up.

Lion made his way to his bed and looked over to see Athos sitting up in his own. When Lion locked eyes with him they both lay down and closed their eyes. It was maybe only a few minutes after sunrise when there came a knock at their door.

Lion opened it to see an unfamiliar Legionary standing before him with an indifferent look on the man's ageing face.

"One of your boys was found dead at the bottom of the bluffs. Looks like he jumped. We brought him back up to the top. Doubt you can tell who he is, kid must have landed on his head. Ain't much left of it. I'm sure if you look around your group you'll find your missing failure," the Legionary explained. Lion pulled off the look of shock flawlessly. He thanked the Legionary for the news and woke up all the boys.

XXX

With little effort, Lion managed a believable cover story. Even as questions rose about Aramis' absence Athos pulled his weight and simply told everyone his brother had gotten a bad case of food poisoning from lunch before and was being seen by the slaves. Everyone believed that. The food in Flagstaff was no better than Camp Munda. Titus took Huck's supposed suicide the hardest. Huck had been Titus' best friend and now he was left without his other half.

Athos may have felt bad for Titus had Huck not been such an asshole and deserving of what he got.

Training was quite sombre for the rest of the day. Only Athos seemed inclined to want to train at maximum pace. Lion kept giving him cautious looks to tone it down but Athos didn't want to pretend to care. The only thing that wiped the lingering scowl off Athos' face was seeing his sister walking across the settlement next to Lion. He ran to her side and hugged her tightly.

"How you feeling?" he asked sincerely.

"Like someone just stuffed me full of sawdust," Aramis' replied weakly.

"You need to rest," Lion ordered.

Aramis nodded and walked past her brother and into the Den.

When training was over for the day and night fell on the camp, Athos rose from his bed and sat at the foot of his sister's cot. She rolled over onto her back and looked at him in the darkness. What little light cast through the cracks in the ceiling and lit up his face gave her sight to see just how on edge he was. He wasn't smiling or able to look her in the face. He carried so much worry for the both of them.

"Lion told me what you did," she tried to get through to him. "He also told me how you saved my life; not just with your blood. Athos, you're the best brother anyone could have ever asked for," she told him with a calm warming smile.

He looked at his sister and knew the price was worth it. No one would ever hurt her so long as he drew breath. It was a promise he made and one he intended to keep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning - Explicit Sexual Content**

Since the incident several months ago with Aramis, things hadn't changed much. Training still continued with Lion playing his role as the ignorant instructor so well that no one thought anything was out of place.

As Aramis grew older, more things needed to be addressed so to keep her secret. The biggest giveaway was her cleavage, which needed to be kept hidden. The armour she wore helped a little but it was just a matter of time before the issue got worse. Aramis went and saw Seekra with this matter who constructed a tight sleeve like tube bra out of Brahmin skin that Aramis could wear. Aramis complained she couldn't breathe but Seekra reminded her it was better than being discovered. The sleeve did its part keeping Aramis' breasts tucked so close to her body that they remained completely undetected.

The issue with Aramis' monthly problem had been managed discretely. She was often teased about her lack of facial hair but Aramis laughed it off claiming her and Athos' couldn't share all the great genes. Luckily for Aramis, it was Zen who seemed to be at the brunt of most jokes regarding a small figure and lack of masculine rigidity.

Finally, the day came when the twins turned fifteen and would be taking part in the trails to gain acceptance into The Legion. As it had been for so many before them, they would be tested on their combat skills, agility and strength.

Lion didn't seem overly excited for this day. The children assumed it had something to do with the fact that most of them were growing up and leaving him. The only child who remained training was Zen and he was only a couple years away from his trials. The need for more children was an increasing issue that needed to be addressed as soon as possible.

Lion caught Aramis alone before breakfast and sat her down in the Den so the two of them could have a little chat.

"This is it. You're on your own at this point," Lion began.

Aramis just smirked confidently.

"You saved my life, Lion. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you," she replied.

Lion lifted his leg and inspected his knee which still required the bandages she had made but the injury had become much more manageable.

"Naw, Kiddo. We saved each other," he spoke and pulled her in for a bone crushing bear hug. When he released her he held her by both shoulders and looked her in the face. Lion had aged so gradually that Aramis hadn't even noticed until now. The wrinkles beneath his eyes had deepened and he more had formed in the corners of his mouth. He'd lost some tone in his arms and legs but he was still the brute he'd always been.

"Don't give them any reason to question who you really are. You've worked harder than anyone to be a Legionary and no one deserves it more than you do. Remember, shower alone, keep that sleeve on at all times and whatever you do, just keep acting like a man," Lion compiled.

Aramis rolled her eyes keeping her smirk in place.

"I got this!" she assured.

Lion returned the confident grin and released her.

"I know you do."

As Aramis turned to exit the Den she paused and addressed him once more.

"Lion?" she began.

Lion's eyes rose from the floor to meet her inquisitive stare.

"Yeah?"

"How did you hurt that leg?" she asked.

Lion's eyes fell back to the floor and he drew in a large breath.

"Why do you wanna know that?" he questioned.

Aramis simply shrugged.

"Slaving mission," he began with his words sounding as though they poisoned his tongue.

"We'd been watching a tribe for some time, learning their habits. When the men went out hunting leaving the women unattended, we snuck in to collect em all but the men returned unexpectedly. They beat every last one of us boys to death but some how I had lived," he said as if he seemed angered by this.

Lion then stopped, perhaps wondering if he should continue the story. Her silence and fascinated stare urged him to go on.

"They left our bodies to rot just outside their settlement as a warning to anyone else wishing to try something stupid. One of the women of the camp saw me squirming out there and when night fell, she dragged me into her tent, patched me up, and nursed me back to health despite the Chieftain's orders. She had been his daughter - pretty thing, maybe seventeen or so with long black hair that felt like the softest feather on my skin when she dressed my wounds," Lion described with a tone he never used before – like he was reminiscing about better days. It was soft and calming but more surprising was that he couldn't hide the smile when he spoke about the Chieftain's daughter.

"My leg was permanently disfigured. There was nothing anyone could do to fix that. When the rest of my wounds healed and I was able to walk well enough, I was ordered by the Chieftan to return to Caesar. The Chief believed that by returning me to The Legion unharmed, this would solidify an unspoken truce between the two factions. When I returned to camp, I was greeted by the ranks as a war hero. My leg made me useless as a Legionary but Caesar had other plans for me. Caesar saw it fitting to use me as an ambassador to the tribe and ordered me to return as a demonstration of goodwill."

Lion fell silent for a few drawn out seconds.

"It took a while for the people of the tribe to warm up to me living amongst them but in time I proved my worth as a invaluable hunter and warrior. I even took the Chieftain's daughter as my bride," he informed before falling silent for another break to organize his thoughts.

"I harbored no ill will towards the tribe for what they had done to the other Legionaries," Lion explained before carrying on with the story. "I reported back to Caesar monthly about the goings on in the tribe, strengths and weaknesses. I had no idea what he was planning to do with the information.

"The day came for assimilation. Caesar moved a large opposition force to the border of the tribe's land. The Chieftain viewed this as a threat and refused Caesar's demands for imminent surrender of freedom. I tried to reason with the Chieftain but he chose to fight," Lion explained tapping his good foot on the ground and visibly seeming tense.

"Forced to surrender, the Chieftain was executed by the Legion along with all males of the tribe. The women were to be taken as slaves. I pleaded with the Decanus to let my wife serve me alone but that was not policy," Lion paused for a moment and Aramis could see his eyes welling up. He went on.

"I screamed for mercy as the Decanus offered up my wife to his men. Her screams as they passed her around just about drowned my own. When they were done…."

Lion could no longer keep the tears at bay.

"They cut her open from neck to belly … and if that couldn't have been the worst part … they pulled out my unborn daughter from her womb. Not even four months along. I didn't even know she'd been pregnant."

Aramis' mouth was gaping.

Lion went on.

"The Decanus told me that women were like a virus. They infect their host, unleash their symptoms, and the only way to be rid of them is to annihilate them from your system altogether. Only then are you free from the disease," he said looking to her shocked face.

"Lion I…" Aramis tried but she couldn't find her words.

"It happened a long time ago," Lion defended. "I've never told anyone that."

Aramis could see the pain he carried … not in his step but tucked away in his eye, an agony more intense than any beating or chronic leg pain.

"The Centurions are coming!" came Athos' voice from outside the tent.

Aramis looked over her shoulder and in every corner of the Den to be sure they were still alone before she leaned in and planted a tiny kiss on Lion's cheek.

"You'd have made a great father," she told him with a gentle smile.

"I know," he replied with reddened eyes and a crooked smile. "Now get out there and show them what a girl can do."

Aramis nodded confidently and hurried out of the tent.

XXX

The trials began promptly at ten in the morning with the arrival of Centurian Thoros and Brutus who had replaced Hemis after his dismemberment. The children often wondered what became of Hemis but whenever they asked, they were met with harsh replies that it was a matter none of them needed to worry about.

Thoros looked unchanged which wasn't exactly accurate given how none of the children had ever seen his face throughout the trials. Brutus was the only one to remove his helmet to watch the trials.

Brutus was just as large as Lion. He was a thickly built man who barely fit into his armour. His face was heavily scared, rough and hardened from years of combat. He wore each scar like a battle honour. His left eye was missing yet rather then cover the gruesome wound he left it visible for all to see as if he needed more reasons to have everyone fear him. The jagged scar ran horizontally through the tissue starting from the top of his thick nose across to his ear. The wound looked as though it was a lethal hit yet Brutus stood alive and always in a wild-eyed stare as if itching for more carnage. His one good seemingly black listless eye caught even the subtlest movements and darted around as if always on edge. His thin mouth curved upwards in a grin when he shook Lion's hand. Even Lion seemed intimidated by this man. Lion made swift eye contact before lowering his eyes and releasing Brutus' hand the moment he was given the opportunity.

The training ring was set up for the morning's event. Athos stood next to his sister as they waited for further direction.

"You ready for this?" he asked.

Aramis nodded slowly.

"Two Centurions, three of us. You think they'll keep you and I together?" she asked.

"I don't know, but don't worry. Either way, I'll always keep an eye on you," Athos promised.

"I just hope I'm not with Brutus. That man terrifies me."

"I think he scares everyone," Athos replied with a smirk.

"Aramis, Titus, you'll start us off," Lion's voice suddenly called out.

"Humiliate him," Athos told her with a severe look on his face.

Aramis gave a curt nod and made her way into the centre of the ring. Zen handed her the long fighting stick and gave a subtle wink. Aramis returned the gesture with a grin and stood ready. Titus strolled across the ring with his stick already in hand. He looked positively murderous. There was no doubt Titus hated her but the way he looked at her today was unsettling as if he really wished to kill her.

The two faced off waiting for Lion's go ahead.

"Begin!" Lion's voice rang out. Right on the command, Titus struck violently. He went for a tripping move that knocked Aramis to the ground stirring up dust. She rolled to get out of the way as Titus brought the end of the stick down as if trying to skewer her. She found her footing and swiftly got to her feet just as another blow made contact to her back. She staggered forward turning sharply to face her opponent.

Titus' eyes seemed ablaze with fury. He came at her again and again and she just managed to get her stick up each time for protection. She needed to fight back but Titus wasn't letting up. Time was running out and if she didn't land a couple hits on Titus, she'd look like the weakest link.

Titus brought his last blow down so hard it broke Aramis' stick in half causing one end to splinter out. Left with just a couple feet of stick, she knew she was in a bad way. Titus was still coming full tilt and she found herself stepping back towards the edge of the ring.

Aramis had to think fast. She needed Titus to make a mistake.

"You know Seekra wants me right?" Aramis brought up in the heat of the fight trying to fend off Titus' savagery at the same time. "She told me after these trials, she and I would celebrate in our own way."

Titus looked positively maniacal. He came at Aramis harder but it was sloppy. Emotions were getting the better of him and he wasn't thinking about defence. When he brought his stick up to unleash some high powered blows Aramis was able to roll out of the way and counted with her own strike to the back of his knee.

Titus buckled allowing Aramis to get her footing behind him and brought the remnants of her fighting stick across is throat and pulled back hard. It was a twist no one saw coming. Aramis held the stick against Titus' airway preventing any blood and oxygen to and from his head. His face began to turn purple as he clawed at her in attempts to free himself but she held firm. Finally Titus fell to both knees as his world began to get blurry.

"That's enough, Aramis." Lion's voice suddenly called out.

Aramis released the other boy who gasped and held his throat as his air supply suddenly replenished. Aramis turned and crossed her fist over her chest respectfully to Lion and the two Centurions. She noticed that Brutus had a pleased smile on his face. The three men talked for a moment then Lion called Athos to face Aramis.

The twins had no issue with this. Titus was in no shape to fight again. Athos and Aramis were given new fighting sticks and stood facing one another ready for Lion's word.

"Go!" his voice hollered. The two fought well but it was clear Athos was by far the better fighter. Even if Aramis was at full strength there was no way she'd be any match for her brother. Athos' countless hours paid off and he sent Aramis down into the dirt on nearly every hit. Aramis could tell Athos wasn't even giving it his all. He didn't want to humiliate his sister but he certainly wanted to come off the stronger fighter.

"Very good you two," Lion's voice came forth ceasing the fight.

When it was time for the obstacle course, once again it was Athos who proved superb. Aramis was strong and quick but she came up just shy of Titus' time. No matter, she had proved her worth and had still done exceptionally well.

When it was all over the Centurions went back to their respective places while Lion called everyone into the tent so they could eat lunch indoors and discuss the trials.

"I'm very proud of you three," Lion began. "You performed beyond my expectations and I think the Centurions have their work cut out for them on who to pick."

Aramis looked across the table at Titus who glared at her with loathing. She couldn't help but sneer.

"Take the rest of the afternoon off. Get your things ready for your big move and I'll go pick up dinner today," Lion added.

Zen most of all seemed pleased with this. This meant he had a day off too to just prepare his things and relax a bit.

After breakfast Aramis and Athos began sorting through the copious amounts of weapons they had made and pieces of armour.

"You're a lot tougher than you think you are, Aramis." Athos began.

Aramis raised her gaze to face her brother.

"You may not have the quickest draw or the most powerful blow but you fight with wit and I don't think many will be able to beat you if you just use that brain of yours," Athos went on.

Aramis grinned but her smile waned as she thought about the moments to come. Soon, Lion would be telling them where they would spend the rest of their lives and there was a chance they'd be separated for the first time ever. The possibility of losing the person she was closest to was hard to take in. He seemed to read her softened expression and reached for her hand.

"We'll never be too far away," he promised. This seemed to lift her spirit and they continued packing and recalling funny moments in the past until Lion called them all around for dinner.

No one seemed able to touch their food as anticipation got the better of them. Lion could see their anxiety and figured releasing them from the torture was in their best interest.

"Titus, Thoros has requested you," Lion began. This seemed to please Titus immensely. "Athos, you as well will be with Thoros. This leaves just Aramis who will be joining up with Brutus," Lion announced.

Both Athos and Aramis tried to force a smile but it was clear they were confused and scared. Without a cue, Lion answered the question on his and her minds.

"The Centurions feared having you both in the same Centuraie would be too confusing. You've spent your whole lives together and they want to you grow as individuals, and not come to rely so heavily on one another," he explained.

It made sense but this was a dangerous concept. Aramis needed Athos to protect her and ensure no one found out her secret. Athos' eyes locked with Lion who seemed unable to meet them. Athos wondered if Lion had any real say in the matter.

"Well, pack the rest of your things. I'll show you all to your new homes. I think there's a bit of a welcoming party planned for you three," Lion said trying to lift spirits once again.

Everyone finished their meal in silence and withdrew back to their bunks to gather their things. Zen came over to say one last goodbye to his friends.

"Won't be the same here without you two," Zen told them.

"You'll be fine. You'll probably be the best fighter of us all with all the one on one training you'll get with Lion. You gotta look after that man for us," Athos assured him.

Zen smiled and the two embraced in a firm hug which Aramis joined in on.

"You'll be with us soon," she promised.

When they arrived at the Fly Trap, the three youths were stunned to see a large fire, its flames licking up towards the skies painting the scene in bright reds and oranges. Legionaries stood around the fire talking and mingling awaiting Lion to bring up the new blood.

"Why is it a celebration, Lion?" Titus asked.

"You're graduates, not just men picked out of the wastes and thrown into a uniform. Your survival through years under my careful eye gives hope that you'll rise quickly through the ranks and prove yourselves to be the most skilled in battle," Lion explained. The thought was very encouraging and the children's self esteem couldn't have been higher. "This is where I leave you now. I need to get back to Zen. Titus, Athos … Thoros' men wear the black band on their left arm. Aramis, Brutus' men have the bone necklaces. I'm sure some one will explain that," Lion informed.

The youths moved away from Lion towards their newfound family.

"Aramis…." Lion called out.

Aramis turned and faced Lion.

"Try not to be an emotional girl, alright?" he whispered to her. Aramis laughed and nodded. "I'll be keeping a close eye on you," he promised and with that he disappeared into the crowd leaving the three boys to fend for themselves.

"Ha ha! Look who joined the big boys!" came a familiar voice from behind the three youths. They all turned to see Argo standing with outstretched arms that pulled all three of them into a tight bear hug.

Argo had certainly changed over the years. He had grown up to be quite an attractive young man. His jaw had squared out and his light brown eyes seemed darker than when he was a boy. His hair was kept short like Athos' yet it too had become much darker. He allowed a bit of facial hair to come through sporting rugged stubble. He looked more muscular yet still somewhat thin compared to most. No doubt he still carried all the speed he did as a youth. He wore a Prime Legionary outfit with bits of black leather and red shreds mixed in. He kept his machete in its holster on his left hip. It was hard to tell Argo apart from many of the other Legionaries dressed the same.

The three new recruits looked just as pleased to see him, each was grinning widely.

"So, who's with Thoros?" Argo asked.

"Athos and I," Titus informed giving a cold sneer to Aramis like she was already out of the club.

"Sharp Knife is around here somewhere. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear we got you two. He might even smile!" Argo teased.

"Suck my left nut," came the low raspy voice of Sharp Knife through the crowd. He had certainly filled out in the last few years. His ink black hair matched that of his eyes. His hair was longer than anyone else yet it seemed acceptable. His deep sun touched skin glistened with sweat in the fire's light. He had grown a few inches and stood just taller than Argo. He wore the standard Prime Legionary armour with patchy leather and a chest plate derived from hold pre war sporting equipment. His boots were simple black combat boots with his own twist. He fashioned little pieces of jagged steel into the front of each boot to give an added edge if met in combat. Sharp Knife preferred a fire axe as opposed to a machete, which he kept slung on his back.

Argo smirked and tossed an arm over his friend.

"We got Titus and Athos!" Argo exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Oh? So you're with Brutus then, eh Aramis?" Sharp Knife asked.

Aramis nodded letting her disappointment show with a pout.

"Brutus is an exceptional Centurion. His men speak highly of him. He is … well … very pro active," Argo said with a bit of a laugh like he was eluding to something more.

Aramis raised her brow but before she could ask about it some on else was making their way through the crowd towards the graduates.

There was no time for a verbal greeting. Both Athos and Aramis swung their arms around Reed embracing him.

"I knew you'd make it…" he whispered to them.

"I'm with you!" Athos spoke up enthusiastically.

This seemed to alarm Reed because his smile vanished and he looked sharply to Aramis.

"They split you up?!" he demanded to know softening his voice so not to be overheard.

The twins nodded together.

"This isn't good. What if …" Reed tried before Aramis cut him off.

"No, it's fine. I'll be all right. Everything's been manageable," she assured him.

Reed wasn't convinced but he dropped the subject.

"Have you met any of Brutus' men?" Reed asked.

Aramis shook her head.

"They're all mixed in. His two Decanii here in Flagstaff are Bedic and Orion. The others are all out at different posts scattered throughout the wastes. I don't know Bedic or Orion personally but they seem to be doing a good job," Reed informed. "Bedic isn't hard to miss. He's missing one of his fingers on his right hand. Orion doesn't look like anyone here, kinda like Sharp Knife. Some of his men say he's from some island in the Pacific but I don't know anything more then that. You'll have to find him on your own." he told her.

"Is anyone I know with me?" she asked.

Reed's eyes flashed upwards to the left as if he were scanning his brain for the information.

"Rusty, that mute black man, Jet, still tweaked out as ever and Deegan who I actually never see," he replied.

Aramis got along fine with all three boys back when they were children so she felt her spirits lift slightly.

"Come on, it's time to get you initiated!" Reed spoke up enthusiastically.

"What?!" Aramis squealed.

"It's not so bad. Just try not to throw up. Jet did and they made him eat that too," Reed warned.

None of it sounded very appealing.

Reed led Aramis back towards the main gathering where a table had been set up beside the large fire. Three large metal cups and large wooden bowl were placed in the center of the table all masking their contents. Athos and Titus stood on one side of the table looking down at the two items with disgust painted on their faces. Athos' eyes flashed up as his sister joined them and he grimaced. When she looked down she could see why. The bowl contained three large Brahmin hearts while the cups comprised of a thick led liquid she knew to be blood.

Reed stood beside Aramis with a wide grin plastered on his face. Everyone gathered around the new recruits eager to watch them perform their initiation.

One man stepped forward and raised his hands high above his head. The crowd instantly fell silent.

He was unlike anything Aramis had ever seen before. His hair was a very light brown, shaggy with a few pieces falling over his eyes. Those eyes. So unusually pale brown and shaped like thin almonds. His skin carried a natural tan and his face was lightly peppered with stubble from the last couple days. He wasn't overly tall or short, simply average but his body was well sculpted by years of hardship at the mercy of his position and training. There seemed to be a sense of carelessness about him emphasized by his lack of perfected grooming and a playful grin. He was an extremely attractive man and for the first time Aramis felt a stir as her gender got the better of her.

"That's Orion, one of your Decanii," Reed whispered in her ear.

Orion lowered his hands and surveyed the crowd.

"Let the new blood prove their loyalty to us now! Let them eat the hearts and drink the blood of our enemies!" Orion chanted.

"How are Brahmin our enemies?" Athos mumbled loud enough for Reed to hear.

"It's more … symbolic," Reed defended with a smirk.

All three recruits knew now what they were expected to do and none seemed inclined to volunteer to go first.

As always, Athos took it upon himself to get it over with as quickly as possible. He picked up one of the hearts as the crowd cheered. Blood covered his face the second he took his first bite. He sank his teeth in feeling the squishy muscle compress in his mouth. When he was able to chew and swallow he looked to his two companions on either side of him and shrugged.

"Not too bad," he mumbled.

The crowd cheered once more as the other two picked up the remaining hearts and joined Athos in the unsavory meal.

Heart was nothing new to their diet but eating it raw was tough and hard to bite apart. The recruits had to shred pieces off in a savage manner in order to make any progress.

Aramis looked at the smiling faces in the crowd and she felt accepted as one of them. It was then she saw a pair of familiar eyes looking back at her with a sympathetic frown. Seekra stood with her arms crossed watching her friends go through their test. The pained look on her face was how Aramis felt with each agonizing swallow. At that moment Seekra snickered and shook her head. This is what Aramis wanted, this is what she deserved, Seekra thought good-naturedly.

When the hearts were consumed all that was left was the blood. Each recruit picked up their respective cup and raised it to their lips.

"Don't stop, just get it all down," Reed instructed.

The cups titled higher on their faces as they downed the blood. The salty, metallic taste was unwelcoming on the pallet. Athos was done in a few seconds followed by Titus. Aramis had never been good at chugging anything and it took her a bit longer to get it all down and keep it there. When they were finished the crowd cheered once more. The recruits looked around at all the beaming faces and felt accepted.

Orion raised his hands once more and the crowd went quiet.

"Let their blades taste flesh and their fists crack skulls! True to Caesar!" he hollered.

"True to Caesar!" the crowd echoed back.

Aramis left her brother's side to speak with Seekra. When the two girls found one another, Seekra threw her arms around Aramis.

"You did it!" she gleamed enthusiastically. "I'm so proud of you!"

At that moment a different kind of cheer rose up in the voice of Argo who had seen the two bodies embrace.

"Ooooooooh! Looks like Aramis has been holding out on something till this day!" he called out. A few others had now turned and were now staring at the slave girl and new recruit.

"I think today is a day of firsts for Aramis!" Argo teased.

Aramis raised a brow. What was he talking about? She looked to Seekra who looked positively mortified.

Athos now stood next to Argo with a cautious look on his face.

"I think the boy needs a good taste of cunny!" some one called out from the crowd.

Aramis' eyes flashed around the small crowd that had gathered around she and Seekra.

"What's going on?" Aramis asked the young woman beside her. Seekra was three years older than Aramis and from fifteen to eighteen, the difference was apparent. Seekra was taller and filled out her feminine body as opposed to Aramis who was a developing woman trying to fill a developing man's body.

"They want you to have sex with me," Seekra mumbled.

Aramis now shared the same terrified grimace that Seekra displayed.

"Come on, Aramis! You're a man now! What's the matter? She not hot enough for you!? Grab that slave and fuck her brains out!" Argo cheered.

"Come on man, leave him alone," Athos tried to calm down the over zealous Argo.

"No worries, Athos! You'll get your turn soon!" Argo replied sheepishly.

Athos looked to Aramis coming up blank with how to help the two girls.

"It's not hard, boy! She's been broken in! She'll show you how to do it!" some one else called out.

Aramis looked at Seekra who was the lightest shade of pale.

"Kiss me," Seekra whispered as the two girls stood side by side.

"What?" Aramis questioned.

"Kiss me you idiot. You're a Legionary now, you gotta act like one," Seekra bit back harshly so only Aramis could hear. At that moment, Aramis just reacted and grabbed Seekra, pulling the slave girl into her and the two kissed right then and there in front of everyone. Everyone hollered and raised fists in the air laughing and cheering triumphantly. Aramis and Seekra held their spot playing up the role as best they could.

Athos looked positively dumbstruck. His mouth was gaping and eyes wide in disbelief.

Reed came through the crowd wondering what the commotion was all about. When he saw Aramis and Seekra, he too shared the same stunned look of Athos.

"HA HA! YEAH ARAMIS!" Argo called out.

Aramis pulled away and raised her fist in the air yelling out for all to hear. Her call was met with the howls of her brothers. Seekra stepped away trying to play up her submissive slave role. Aramis' eyes surveyed the unruly crowd until her eyes met those of Titus who looked positively homicidal. Aramis couldn't help but sneer and raised her eyebrows in a teasing manner. Titus's face was a brilliant shade of red and she thought he might melt the ground where he stood with that amount of burning rage.

She dismissed his jealousy and went to Athos' side.

Athos looked unimpressed at first but a leer flickered across his face.

"Cute…" he grumbled as Reed came towards them.

"Well, that certainly solidified your place," Reed jested and bent down to whisper in her ear, "I gotta admit. That was hot. Even if you do look like a dude."

Aramis punched him in the shoulder but Reed just laughed.

Argo was at their side laughing and clapping.

"I guess that will do for now. Don't think like a child anymore, man! You're one of us and if you want to get your dick wet, all you gotta do is grab one of them bitches and stick it in her," Argo informed.

Aramis, Reed and Athos all nodded forcing an awkward chuckle.

"I think I may do just that. I'll see you all around," Argo exclaimed and dismissed himself from the group.

Reed shook his head and looked to Athos.

"Come on Athos, I better introduce you formally to Sipher. You'll be directly under him. I'm with him as well along with Argo," Reed told him. "I'd go find Brash if I were you Aramis, He's one of the Veteran Legionaries in Brutus's Centuraie. He'll be able to tell you which Decanii you're under."

Aramis nodded and they split off. Aramis moved through the crowd asking anyone with a bone necklace if they knew where Brash was. The pointing fingers finally met their endpoint at a collection of rocks behind Shelter Seven belonging to the Legionaries. The area was dark and isolated from the rest of the crowd.

"Brash?" she called out but no one replied. As she neared the rocks she could hear yelps and subtle cries of some one in pain. She hurried to find the source of the noise only to come across a man with his tunic pulled up, bent over a naked slave girl Aramis didn't recognize. He held both her arms while he bucked his hips aggressively into the slave. When the man saw her, she thought he'd be furious but a twisted smile played across his face.

"I'm nearly done with her. She may not be game for another round though," he told Aramis seemingly nonchalant that she was witnessing this. His voice was deep and raspy from an early childhood respiratory infection that left his throat full of scar tissue.

The slave didn't look to be enjoying the abuse. A tear streaked down her pale sunken face. Her eyes caught Aramis' and Armis turned so not to watch further.

"I was told to come find you and ask that you tell me which Decanii I am to report to," Aramis tried to discuss despite the immense awkwardness.

"Ooooh! New blood! Sorry I missed your opening games … I was busy," Brash boasted cheerfully. "Just… give me a sec and I'll sort you out."

Aramis tried to drown out the noise with her thoughts but the grunts and moans of the man were hard to ignore. The slave's painful cries were ever more troubling.

"Quit crying you stupid cunt!" Brash growled.

The slave went silent as he fucked her against the rough rock.

"Ooooo fuck ya!" Brash howled feeling his release before pulling out of the slave girl. "Not bad for a quick bang!" he bragged proudly and slapped her bare ass hard. She shrieked and gathered her rags before limping off into the darkness to dress.

Aramis felt the joy of the night vanish instantly. So this was the world beyond The Den, she thought.

"So! What's your name, kid?" Brash asked as he sorted out his attire.

Aramis now felt comfortable enough to turn and meet Brash face to face without needing to see too much of him.

Brash was a very solid built man. He stood tall and built like a brick house. His armour looked as though it had been through a lot, which she expected from a Veteran Legionary. Much of his armour was torn and worn through. Slices from enemy's weapons remained without attempts at mending. His hair was unlike any man in the Legion. A short spiked line of hair ran from his forehead down his neck and the brightest red she'd ever seen before. There was no way a colour like that was natural. She had heard of plant dye's that would turn one's hair a certain colour but she'd never seen it on anyone before. His face brandished a scar that looked as though it had been done on purpose. There was no mistaking the image of a tree burned into the right side of the man's face.

Aramis stared at the man feeling the same uneasiness she felt when she first met Lion. She hoped as with Lion, this man would prove to be a surprise in nature but so far he seemed to be just the opposite.

"Aramis," she choked up a reply.

"Weird name…. So they pawned you off to me then, huh?" he asked grabbing a strange looking weapon resembling a woodcutter's axe, a saw and a pickaxe mixed into one.

"What is that thing?" she asked letting her curiosity speak out.

Brash grinned ear to ear.

"This here's a climber's pick; great little tool. Lighter then a fireman axe, I can swing this around, crush a man's skull and perforate a few bowels all without breaking a sweat. Not to mention it makes climbing the rock faces around here a hell of a lot easier," he told her.

"Where'd you find that?" she asked.

"I got this here from my daddy. Right after I slit his and my mom's throat. He used it to climb the trees back at home and collect bird eggs or something. Now I just use it to slaughter people," Brash replied cheerfully.

Aramis' eyes went wide, definitely not a replacement for Lion.

"Anyways, enough about me. I guess you're looking for a bit of direction, huh?" Brash asked.

Aramis nodded.

"Well, I am Decanus Orion's second in command. Decanus Bedic was sent out a few days ago to do some raiding so I guess you're with Orion. We could use a fully trained recruit in our party. Too many converting slaves. Not bad guys but I don't trust em fully, you know?" Brash explained.

Aramis nodded again.

"Decanus Orion is a good leader. The slave bitches he takes never cry rape with him. He's too much of a pretty boy. They may say no at first but they all moan like whores the moment he sticks it in em," Brash went on.

Aramis swallowed the lump in her throat.

"He prefers to take slaves as opposed to killing everyone. I personally rather kill em than feed em but Orion says we gotta get our numbers up. Still, he lets me slit a few throats or crush in a few skulls just to keep me at ease," he told her.

During her time in The Legion Aramis had always been prepped on the eventuality she'd have to kill someone someday. Still, to hear it spoken so plainly was a little unnerving. She wasn't a Legion Child anymore. She was a recruit and now the expectations were on her to kill without mercy. No more wooden sticks and picking someone up when she tossed them to the ground. It was about taking lives now with real weapons like the climbing pick Brash carried proudly.

"Anyways, let me show you where you'll be living. Those under Orion are in shelters six, seven, eight and nine. There's a free bunk in shelter nine with me. White Eyes was killed in a raid. Not superstitious are you? Taking a dead man's bed. Always good luck," Brash teased as the two of them made their way to shelter nine through the thinning crowd of legionaries.

XXX

On the opposite side of the Legionary shelters, Athos was getting settled into his own bunk. He felt tremendous pride in himself that he had made it to this point. He was finally amongst his brethren and the feeling put him in a high he never felt before. When he was finished tending to his space he left the shelter to explore the camp with his newly perceived privilege. Much of the party had died down and the fires put out but that didn't deter a few lingering bodies to keep the festivities alive. Every corner Athos took, some slave girl was bent over awkwardly or on her knees servicing the men they were bound to.

To such young eyes it was a little awkward to witness. Athos had only received lectures in the matter of sex from Lion and even those were hard to comprehend. So this is how things were around here, that didn't seem to bother Athos much, not until he turned another corner and saw the pained look on Seekra's face as Titus held her firmly to the ground beside a smoldering fire. She lay on her back with him on top, tunic pulled up to his waist. The dim light lit her naked body illuminating the bruises in varying degrees of healing but the fresh ones stood out most. Deep purple marks on her neck, which had not been there before, matched that of a hand that now held her beneath him. Her head extended back and she met Athos' shocked stare. Even at the distance, Athos could see the tears in her eyes that rolled down her temples to the dampened ground beneath her.

It felt as though he had taken flight when Athos darted in and pulled Titus off his claim.

"What the fuck?!..." Titus yelped trying to spin his head around to see who yanked him. When his eyes met those of Athos' his fright turned to anger. "What the hell's your problem?!"

Athos couldn't find the words to settle Titus' edge instead; he let a fist strike the youth clean across the chin. Titus fell in a heap to the ground stunned by the blow but hardly down for the count. Titus collected his bearings as quickly as he hit the ground and came back at Athos with his own cocked fist. The knock contacted Athos' head just above the left eye and sent him staggering back feeling the area swell almost instantly.

"You piece of shit!" Athos barked with a heaving chest ready to unleash himself once more but exercised restraint.

"I can fuck whoever I want!" Titus defended just as enraged as his brethren.

"Not that one!" Athos ordered behind clenched teeth.

"What's going on out here?" another male's voice came on to the scene. Athos and Titus both spun around to see a few figures materialize from the shadows. Sharp Knife was the only recognizable face standing amongst two unknown Legionaries.

"I was just fucking that slave cunt when this asshole decided I'd had enough!" Titus informed the newcomers bitterly.

Seekra was now on her shaking legs requiring a tent beam to keep her standing. Her eyes were locked on the ground. She was visibly terrified from what Athos could tell but at least Titus wasn't pounding her into the ground anymore.

"You have something to prove to me?" Titus snarled grabbing at Athos' attention. "Can't get your own so you feel like sharing mine?!"

"That's enough you two. Not even a day in and you're already trying to kill one another," one of the proven Legionaries interjected.

"This prick ain't one with me!" Athos growled.

"You think you're hurting my feelings you fucking cocksucker?!" Titus rebutted.

"How does that jaw of yours feel?!"

"About as good as your eye, I bet!"

"Enough you two!" Sharp Knife snapped. "You're fucking going at one another like two caged animals!"

"The Bull Ring!" Athos called out. "You and I, settle this in the Bull Ring!"

Titus looked slightly taken aback. His brows raised and the snarl on his face was replaced with a tight slipped frown.

"Athos, take back the challenge. You just made recruit. One of you doesn't need to die before you even set foot outside the camp!" Sharp Knife warned.

"I won't! I challenge Titus to a fight in the Bull Ring. To the death!" Athos insisted.

"Fine!" Titus replied unwilling to let Athos appear the only one willing to put up his life.

The other two Legionaries exchanged looks.

"Call it off!" Sharp Knife snapped.

"This asshole is going to die!" Titus yapped.

"We'll pass it on to Sipher then," one of the experienced Legionaries said much to Sharp Knife's protest.

"Sipher will never sanction this!" Sharp Knife snorted.

"How about you let me speak my own words?" came a deep husky voice from the darkness. Like he had been standing there all along, Decanus Sipher stood with folded arms watching the bickering boys with indifference.

All present Legionaries lowered their heads in submissive respect to the Decanus and his words.

"Clearly these two have some unresolved issues they wish to carry over into our ranks. Whatever tension there is between you two ceases now. Should either of you so even look at the other with ill will, I'll pull out your eyes and serve them up for dinner to the men. Am I clear?" Sipher voiced calmly.

"Yes, Decanus," the boys responded in unison.

"At least wait a year or two before you go challenging some one in the Bull Ring," Sipher added looking to Athos. "Legion Children who make Recruit don't need to be wasted in their first few hours of existence in the ranks, got it?"

Athos nodded feeling defeated.

"Party's over. Get to your bunks. Tomorrow, I want everyone up before the sun and doing laps until I decide to stop you," Sipher ordered.

"Yes, Decanus," everyone now spoke up.

Sipher lingered for a few more seconds eying them all with disapproval before dismissing himself.

"Fucking fools," Sharp Knife grumbled pushing Titus towards one shelter and Athos towards another. "Get up with the others tomorrow. Dress is usual armour and soft boots. You two really made a great first impression."


	9. Chapter 9

Over the next few weeks, things were relatively calm around Caesar's Capitol. The tension between Athos and Titus had died down mostly due to the fact that Athos was under Decanus Sipher while Titus was under Decanus Wynn, meaning their training schedules were different.

For the new recruits, training as a full-fledged Legionary was much more challenging than any of them had expected. When they were children under Lion's care, they were kind to one another for the most part. Encouragement was often the best kind of motivation for the Legion Children but now every little weakness and imperfection was exposed and exploited.

During a sparring session with Sharp Knife, Athos had miscalculated his attack using his wooden knife and found himself easily subdued by the brawny native. A quick defeat under the eyes of Lion would have resulted in some verbal harassment and perhaps a stone to the back of the head for good measures. In the Fly Trap, defeat in training was met with a brutal lashing from the Decanus' whip, your daily ration of water to be dumped on the sand, and all sorts of other morale-crushing tactics. By the afternoon of the first day, Athos learned defeat was not an option.

It took a few more tough days for Athos to start winning against his opponents. Even as training ceased for the day, Athos would spend much of his evening strength training and conditioning to give him any advantage he could. By the third week Athos rarely lost a single session against another opponent. It also became apparent he tried much harder to win when the slave girl, Seekra was watching. The other Legionaries would often make fun of him for this fact but Athos never let their badgering get the better of him. Much to the delight of his superiors, it became clear the young man was everything they had come to expect.

It wasn't long before the hazing stopped and Athos was accepted among his brethren. When the time came for their first raid, Athos could barely contain his joy. He snuck into Centurion Brutus' part of the Fly Trap to tell Aramis all the details.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Aramis inquired. It was clear she couldn't help but think about Marcus and how his first raid went.

Athos merely rolled his eyes as if the thought of their deceased comrade was nothing to burden the mind with.

"I couldn't be more ready. Have you heard when you might be going out?" Athos asked.

Aramis shook her head.

"Doesn't sound like any time soon. We just brought a bunch of assimilated slaves into our ranks. It will be awhile before they are trained up enough for us to take them out with us," Aramis informed.

Athos nodded heavily and looked up and down his sister.

"You're looking skinnier," he pointed out.

"Not all of us are blessed with the male gene," Aramis snapped back quietly. "I work my ass off but I am barely putting on any muscle mass."

"Are you at least fighting well against the bigger guys?" Athos asked.

"Well enough," Aramis informed.

Athos knew Aramis differed greatly from her him. Where he was ruthless in the ring against any opponent demonstrating raw strength and brutality, Aramis was calculating and clever. She didn't have the same strength as him and had to find other ways to get her man down. Where Athos could beat his opponent into submission just by wailing on him with blow after blow, Aramis often utilized sensitive spots on her target's body, which brought them to their knees.

"I should be heading back. We're taking off first thing in the morning!" Athos said exuberantly.

Aramis' upper lip curled and a sullen look played across her face clearly illustrating her jealousy.

"You'll get your chance soon. I'll see you when I get back!" Athos said pulling her into a quick hug before sauntering back to his part of the camp.

XXX

Athos and the selected members of his Contubernium rose long before the sun poked over the mountains that encased Flagstaff. It was a crisp morning that chilled the skin when animal hides were kicked off. When he sat up, his breath condensed the moment it left his mouth like a thin fog. He rubbed his legs letting the heat from the friction sink deep into his muscles. When he was finally out of bed, he threw on his Recruit armour and slid the black band of Thoros up his left arm. Last night he added a few details to this particular set of armour. He had poked nails through the gloves and lower arm guards adding to his malicious appearance.

Thankfully the shelter was dark enough to hide the embarrassing ear-to-ear grin he had plastered on his face like a kid waking up for Christmas. He hurried outside to meet up with the others only to see he was the first one ready. Being over zealous was not a bad trait. Eventually, Argo, Sharp Knife, Reed, three other Prime Legionaries, two Recruit Legionaries and a Veteran by the name of Samurai joined him.

Samurai was named simply because of his Asian background, the only one in their entire Centuraie. Samurai was a man of thirty or so. He was well liked by the men he worked with despite the fact that he never seemed to smile or show any emotion other than indifference and apathy. He seemed to favour Sharp Knife above anyone else, which everyone guessed was because the two were nearly identical in personality. Despite his name, Samurai chose to carry a set of his own hand crafted machetes that resembled a jagged bone saw on one end and the sharpened blade on the other. He was also the only other member in the raiding party to carry of firearm. Decanus Sipher was the other.

To carry a firearm was considered high honour in the ranks. They were rare and only the most deserving got one. Athos studied the .44 magnum revolver. Samurai took good care of his. He cleaned the carbon off it after each use and kept it oiled to ensure it fired true each time. Athos couldn't wait for the day he got to fire one. For now, he put his trust in his simple machete and half a dozen throwing spears he hulled over his back.

The three Prime Legionaries had been from the same tribe assimilated some years ago. Apparently the assimilation had been smooth and the men loyal to Caesar from the start.

The oldest was a man of twenty-eight with messy brown hair and a plain face who went by the name of Rigger. He was the group's expert on climbing and repelling. Rigger was a lean man with a knack for contorting his body enabling him to accomplish any climbing task that arose.

Squeaker was the party's black sheep. Many didn't like him but they often brought him out on every raid in hopes he'd be killed. He was loud, obnoxious and more annoyingly, lazy. The other Legionaries often wondered why he wasn't killed just to boost morale but to suggest it would result in a shared crucifixion spot. Squeaker was fat by Legion standards and his skills with any weapon were sub par.

Valeus had been a student of some college still intact and kept in use after the Great War. He had been captured and enslaved early on in the Legion's formation. Apparently he and some friends had been travelling across the wastes to "see the history," as he put in when they were all taken. His friends died in the first few months but Valeus carried on. He was a very intelligent young man of twenty or so, casually handsome with pale grey eyes and a thin mouth. Despite his young age, his hair had more grey in it than brown.

The two Recruits were slaves who proved their loyalty over the last few months and transferred into the ranks after a trust had been established. Both were quite young at eighteen and impressionable. Their names were Bry and Hus.

Athos didn't take the time to get to know the young men. He had been told early on to ignore the newly brought up slaves on account that they never lasted long in the ranks. All he gathered was that Bry thought he was some kind of ladies man and had more brawn then common sense while Hus was somewhat more reserved, timid, almost frightened to be beyond the walls of the capital. Hus was a strong, averaged size young man with dark olive skin. He didn't resemble Native American like Sharp Knife or African American like Yankee or Rusty. Hus had a complexion and features unlike anyone else in the capital.

The party marched off to the rendezvous point by the main gate. It was here they would link up with Decanus Sipher, who was getting his last intel brief from Centurion Thoros, before they would head out.

"You ready for this, man?" Reed asked looking to Athos who displayed eager enthusiasm with a wide grin and incapability to remain still.

"Oh ya!" Athos beamed cheerfully.

"I remember my first raid," Samurai spoke up.

"How did it go?" Athos asked.

"Marched for a week. Saw a heard of wild Big Horners and that was it. The tribals we were suppose to capture moved on day's prior. Caesar had the scout who passed on the poor intel crucified," Samurai explained.

It was hardly an exciting story and Athos hoped they would encounter something to kill, maim or capture.

Decanus Sipher could be seen strolling towards the small group through the early morning fog that surrounded the camp at this time. The sky was now a hazy pinkish orange as the sun peeked up from behind one of the mountains.

"Ave," Sipher greeted pleased his men looked fresh and ready to go. "The group were going after have a bit of history with us. As some of you can recall, the assimilation of the Iron Rivers Tribe at Circle Junction didn't go as smoothly as Caesar wanted. Some were able to escape. We now know the location of these Dissolutes. They've returned to their hunting grounds in Colorado. Apparently they are calling themselves the 'Iron Lines' now. Our orders are to capture as many healthy females as possible and bring them back to Flagstaff, understood?"

Then men nodded sternly in unison.

The large gate swung open giving them access to the wastes beyond its guard. The vast openness greeted them and Athos couldn't hide the grin on his face.

"You know why were taking the women don't you?" Argo's voice suddenly chimed in Athos' ear.

Athos turned to see the look of concern on Argo's face.

"No, why?" he asked.

"To help with the reproduction issue we've been having lately," Argo began. "As it is now, only one slave is pregnant and still carrying. The rest have miscarried or the babies have been stillborn. Caesar is concerned that without young blood being brought up, our strength will decline."

Athos pondered this information.

"How can we possibly grow weak? Every month we bring in more Captures," Athos rebutted.

"Eventually that pool will dry up. We need to be able to sustain ourselves from within. Plus, bred legionaries are much more valuable then former slaves. You and your brother were some of the youngest brought in according to some of the older guys. Zen better start growing a pair soon cause he's going to have high expectations when he joins us out here," Argo added.

The thought didn't sit well with Athos. Zen was a good kid but hardly a competent Legionary. Athos knew his integration into the ranks wasn't going to be a smooth one.

"When's the next baby due?" Athos inquired.

"Not for another eight months or so. It's that slave girl you like, Seekra. She's carrying some one's kid," Argo spoke nonchalantly. When Athos heard the words, his blood just about boiled.

"Seekra is pregnant?!" Athos spat almost violently.

"Yeah…." Argo murmured as Athos' mood had suddenly changed. Clearly, Argo was unaware his words would have such a profound effect on Athos.

Athos knew immediately who the father was. It had to be Titus. That son of a bitch would pay the moment Athos came back to the capital. How dare that asshole give Seekra a child. Whether it was jealousy or natural protection he felt, his anger showed on his face with a hardened scowl and a white knuckled grip on his machete.

"Easy, it's not like she's your property," Argo tried. "She's a slave. She's fair game for everyone."

Athos bit his tongue. The idea Seekra was just some instrument of desire sickened him. She was the most beautiful girl in all of Flagstaff. She was kind and smart. She had saved Aramis' life. Seekra was more then what Argo claimed she was.

Regardless of Legion policy, Athos didn't believe in raping women. He didn't see the thrill in holding a woman down and forcing himself on them for his own sick amusement. The way Seekra looked at him the night Titus took her would haunt him. The pain in her eyes still gripped his spine. Athos never wanted to put a woman through that horror. At that moment the idea of Aramis ever being discovered and tortured in such a manner was enough for him to promise himself right then and there that he'd never bed a woman who said no.

XXX

Crossing the terrain proved more challenging then anyone foresaw. As they ascended higher into the mountains where the Iron Lines were said to be hiding, the air thinned out and some areas were blanketed in deep permanent snow, capping the immense rocky peaks. This was the Iron Lines hunting ground. Here they were getting ready for their descent into the valleys to wait out the fast approaching winter.

None of the men came prepared for the cold conditions sleeping in the mountains provided. The party decided it was better to move at night and rest during the day so they all didn't die from exposure. The temperature was well below seasonal and some of the men were exhibiting signs of hypothermia along with superficial frostbite.

Squeaker complained to anyone who would listen. At one point Argo looked over to Athos and Sharp Knife and whispered to his friends that should they run out of food, they could always munch on the man's ass fat.

On the third day of bushwhacking valleys and scaling mountain peaks, the group lost their first member. Hus grabbed a loose rock and before anyone could grab him, he fell nearly fifty feet landing on the sharp rocks below and severed his lower spine. His groaning carried up the rock face where the remainder of the men continued climbing. No one went back to get him. No one even suggested it. To carry a wounded man through this terrain would slow them down too much and they'd all be dead within a few short miserable days. When they put more distance between them and their fallen comrade, his cries for aid were drowned out by the winds that now picked up. No one said a word for the fallen man. His loss would be forgotten soon enough.

"This is pointless. Even when we reach the Iron Lines, how the hell are we going to get back across these mountains with a bunch of women?" Valeus pointed out.

"I guess we take as many as we can and only to strong will be worthy to make it," Rigger informed.

This seemed to be the accepted terms of the march.

By nightfall, a dim light could be seen deep in the foliage of one of the low-lying valleys. A campfire. The raiding party had made it.

"We'll stop here," Decanus Sipher ordered. "Samurai, Sharp Knife, go and scout the area. Report back what you see."

The two men went off into the darkness and after a few short hours returned with the necessary information.

"It's the main camp, about sixty men, women and children. Eighteen fighting males, eleven elderly. Fourteen young children and seventeen breeding females," Samurai reported.

"Weapons?" Sipher asked.

"Primitive. A few bows, throwing spears and nets. Nothing to be overly concerned with," Sharp Knife replied.

"Do they look like they can put up a fight?" Sipher went on.

"They've been eating well in these parts. It may be wise to wait for the males to leave for the hunt and attack. We can resupply and be off long before the men ever get back," Samurai suggested.

Sipher seemed to like this idea.

"Very well, we'll set up an observation post near their camp. Athos and Sharp Knife will take the first watch. When the hunters leave, one of you will get the rest of us and we'll attack. Kill anyone who puts up a fight. Try and leave as many of the women and children alive. We can use some of the older boys to carry supplies," the Decanus ordered.

The men all knew their roles and went to perform them.

Athos and Sharp Knife found an abandoned wolf den that provided a decent amount of cover close enough to the Iron Lines camp. Watching the habitants of the camp go about their day was the most boring thing Athos had ever done. These people seemed content with just sitting around all day. Athos was pleased when Bry and Argo came to relieve them.

They party cycled through watchers for nearly three days. They were nearly through all their supplies when Bry came running up the steep embankment waving his arms.

"The men have left. Argo sent me to come get you," he informed the group.

"Let's go," Decanus Sipher barked and the men stood too, itching for the upcoming fray.

They gathered around the south side of the Iron Lines camp in pairs of fire-teams. On the Decanus' command the group rushed forward. At first the Iron Lines stood watching the approaching pack with stunned disbelief. No one moved until the first throwing spear was sent flying and impaled an older man sending him splaying backwards, blood pouring from every orifice.

A woman screamed and scooped up a nearby child trying to make a run for the tree line but Samurai and Bry were there to cut them off. The woman changed direction but Argo and Squeaker were the next pair to intercept. The raid took only seconds but it seemed like hours to Athos. Sipher stood in the centre with his own Marksman Carbine picking off members he deemed unfit to travel. The screams were deafening and Athos just wanted to kill the lot to get them to shut up.

An older man, perhaps in his fifties pulled the spear out of his fellow Iron Line and now came charging at Athos. The man was slow and ran with a limp. Athos snarled as the man came close enough for Athos to counter the spear by simply moving out of the way and grabbing the long wooden hilt and brought his machete up to sever the arms of the man. The man staggered back grimacing at the stumps where his arms had once been. Blood painted the ground and sprayed on Athos who just stepped back watching the man crumple to the ground in agonizing sobs.

Athos looked to the spear and smirked when he saw the hands of the old man still gripped the wood. He peeled the fingers off and let the hands fall before the man.

"Sorry bout that," Athos teased and walked towards the inner part of the camp where the remainder of the raiding party had rounded up the rest of the Iron Lines.

Women held their children, crying and pleading for mercy. Valeus was already thinning out the group of frail or weak with a quick slice to the throat with his machete. Argo and Bry were gathering whatever supplies they would need for the journey back.

"Nice job with that guy," Argo called out to Athos. "First kill is always quite the rush, huh?"

Athos just smirked and walked to the Decanus' side.

"What do you need of me?" Athos asked.

Decanus Sipher raised a brow noting the amount of blood on the Recruit.

"Outfit the young boys with packs and make sure they're carrying enough supplies in each one. If any of them give you attitude, kill him," Sipher ordered.

Athos nodded heavily and walked among the Captures. He picked up the strong looking boys and gave them each a large backpack to carry. None of them dared look him in the eye or utter a word against him even as he filled each pack with enough supplies to rival their body weight.

By this time Valeus had purged the group of weak and had the stronger women stack the bodies. Their earsplitting cries were starting to drive the men crazy until Sipher had enough.

"The next one of you to let out even a moan will have her throat slit and if she has a child, I'll slit its throat too!" he warned. That shut everyone up.

It took just under an hour to gather up all they would need. The women all had their ankles bound with rope in a single file line to keep them all in order.

"Get them ready to move off," Sipher ordered.

The boys with the packs stayed to the front of the group. In total, twelve of the seventeen women were taken along with ten children. All the elderly were killed. The bodies were piled and left to rot. To set them ablaze would only signal the men to return.

"We'll go back up the mountains," Sipher began. "The snow will cover our tracks. The men wont know which way we went. We should be able to get a few days ahead of them. They'll never be able to track or catch up to us."

The plan made sense and the party marched on with their Captures kept in line.

Crossing the first few mountains was a slow process. The decision to take the children made for tough climbs with each Legionary carrying a child on their back but it was necessary. They adopted the same premise as before, resting during the day and travelling at night to ensure max survivability. By the third night, the number of Captures dwindled from twelve women to nine and seven children.

"Only the strong are worthy of making it," Sipher kept muttering back to them.

With only one day left of climbing through the mountains, Athos decided to do a ration check. When he tallied up what they had left he made a startling find. Somehow they had gone through more supplies then he expected they would. That was impossible. Athos made sure everyone was getting the right amount each day. There should have been food to spare but there was hardly enough to feed half of them.

He didn't know how to bring up the issue. He had been in charge of rations. If he failed his one job during the march home, Sipher would have him crucified. Athos chose to confide in Sharp Knife about the lack of supplies.

"What do you mean there isn't enough?" Sharp Knife barked.

"I made sure to measure out the exact amount each day, I don't know how this happened. I was so careful!" Athos tried.

"You better do something about it and fast," Sharp Knife warned. The two might have been comrades of The Ditch but out here, Sharp Knife was above Athos and friendship didn't mean a thing when it came to surviving.

Athos had no choice but to inform Sipher about the missing food. While they rested that day Athos, like a dog with its tail between its legs lugged his way over to his Decanus and stood before him with his head bowed low.

"Decanus," he began. Sipher looked at the Recruit with a wary gaze.

"What is it, Recruit?"

"It's our food supply. I thought I had rationed it out for the trip back and factored in the amount of people, but I fear I may have miscalculated. We are running dangerously low and I worry, unless we do something about it, we won't have enough to keep everyone alive," Athos admitted.

The Decanus raised a brow and seemed to be pondering with eyes raised to the left corner.

"Athos, you're not a stupid boy and if you say you calculated correctly the first time, I am inclined to believe you. Sometimes we want to put the blame on ourselves but if we wait and watch patiently, perhaps the real truth will reveal itself," the Decanus spoke in riddle.

Athos was confused. Was Sipher suggesting that maybe someone was stealing? How could this be? The Captures didn't have access to the supply when the day's march was over, only a Legionary did. Athos didn't speak another word. He respectively dismissed himself with a fist across his chest and wandered to a large pine tree to set up shelter and rest but Athos didn't rest. He had piled the bags under a tree nearby and lay beneath a branch to watch. Each man took their turn guarding the Captures and the supplies. Finally, Athos had his answer when Squeaker took his turn. Sure enough, the man had gone into the bags and helped himself to some deer meat.

Athos watched in silent shock. One of their own was killing them all. He didn't know how to approach the other Legionary. This was something Decanus Sipher would want to deal with surely. When it came to waking the group Athos gathered up the remaining supplies and issued the packs to the strong boys.

"Did you get your answer?" Sipher's voice suddenly came over Athos' shoulder. Athos turned, nodded curtly and said,

"Yes, Decanus it's…"

"Deal with it," Sipher cut him off sharply. "I don't care who or how but this is your matter to rectify."

Slightly perplexed, Athos nodded once again wonder just what the Decanus meant by saying this was Athos' problem to solve. What could he possibly do about the matter?

The group carried on climbing and walking until they could see the end of the mountains. This was a liberating sight that rejuvenated everyone's strength. There was just one last large rock wall to climb. Rigger climbed it first, setting the lines. Athos followed and heaved each individual up who couldn't get themselves over.

Sure enough, Squeaker was the only Legionary who required Athos' assistance to climb up. He was the last one to reach for Athos' arm but when the moment came for Athos to give it, he knelt down holding a small combat knife to the rope. Squeaker's eyes went wide.

"What are you doing?!" Squeaker called out.

"I saw you take our supplies," Athos articulated.

"Pull me up!" Squeaker ordered.

"No."

"Pull me up asshole!"

"No."

With that Athos cut the line. Squeaker didn't have time to grab anything. The ground seemed to rush up and meet him. His body landed too far from earshot for any thud to be heard.

There was a moment of stunned silence from those who witnessed the incident. Athos just stood up and placed his small-serrated knife back in its scabbard on his belt.

"Get these vermin moving!" Sipher suddenly barked sending jolts of life back into everyone. All eyes were suddenly on the Decanus like they were expecting repercussion. Athos had just sent a man to his death – a Legionary. Certainly, this meant reprimand but Sipher seemed unexplainably calm and collected. He even gave Athos the slightest of head nods as if suggesting the two knew more between themselves then they let on to the others.

No one spoke a word out against Athos' actions. Everyone had seen the gesture between the Decanus and the Recruit. Whatever it meant, the others respected the choice. No one was going to miss Squeaker and no one was going to raise a voice for justice in his death.

The Captures had been quite docile during the journey. After the episode they just saw, the complaints ceased entirely and the pace quickened. Clearly these new slaves were terrified of the men who now held their lives. The Legionaries had shown they were willing to kill civilians without mercy but now they proved they were willing to kill one of their own for who knows what reason. For all they knew it was just to prove a point that no one was safe.

By the very early morning the group was out of the mountains of Colorado and into the vastness of the arid parklands of Arizona. Without Squeaker there was one less mouth to feed at rest time. Bry and Valeus managed to catch a mole rat for the men to cook and enjoy. Now that they had put enough distance between themselves and the Iron Lines, the Legionaries felt confident they could build a fire and cook their meal without incident. The mole rat would provide just enough sustenance to get what remained of the party to Flagstaff based on Athos' prediction and mediation of the meat.

The group knew they were close to the Capitol when the large carved out cone on the horizon stood out like a beacon. Sunset Crater, as it had been called long before the bombs fell many years ago, was a long-dormant volcano located close enough to Flagstaff that it tormented many of the men with nightmares that the sleeping youngin' would wake up. Geology was nobody's strength in The Legion so only tall tales and uneducated speculations guided the men in their wisdom on the volcano.

Even though it stood out like a ticking time bomb, at this particular moment it was a welcome sight signalling the journey was nearly at its end.

By the time they marched into the main gate of Flagstaff they were down to six women and five children, three boys and two girls. To the Decanus, this was a great success. Women were a necessary commodity and to only lose two Legionaries during the entire mission was a cost worth spending.

As the group marched in, the women and children were separated immediately. Of the five children, two were too young to be put work and required trustworthy midwives to raise them. One girl was old enough, as Seekra had been and was ushered away to begin her life as a slave. Two young boys of nine and twelve were led down to The Den to start their training under Lion to become future Legionaries.

The slave master inspected the women and deemed them fit to serve. Collars were issued and the women were herded into pens where they would be broken down until they were pacified and domesticated.

Centurion Thoros greeted the raiding party himself with a pleased expression on his face. Only Decanus Sipher was permitted to receive the praise in the Centurion's private tent while the rest of the men were dismissed to the Fly Trap until they were called on again. This was a welcome invitation to fuck the slaves until their cocks were bruised and achy.

For Athos, this was the moment he had been waiting for. It had been just shy of four weeks since they left Flagstaff and now that he was back, he had to see Seekra. He found her tearing sheets into dressings for wounded Legionaries at the Medical Tent. When she saw him her face lit up and she subtly placed down the dirty, mangled fabric and stepped delicately over to him.

"You're back!" she spoke cheerfully but kept her voice low so not to draw unwanted attention.

Athos forced a soft smile on his face but clearly he had failed to make it convincing because Seekra's eyes narrows and her lips drew in tight.

"Are you still?" Athos asked getting right to the point.

His boldness took Seekra off guard but she kept her composure as best she could. She tapped her fingers on her leg and dropped her gaze so not to see his reaction when she nodded.

"Titus?" Athos went on.

Seekra nodded once more. Athos clenched his fists tightly.

"Has he continued to…"

"Athos, don't ask questions you don't want the answer to," she cut him off.

"I'm going to kill him!" Athos snarled letting his voice carry a bit too loud. A few of the other slave women were now looking over.

"Please Athos, don't make a big deal out of this. I'm a slave. I serve Caesar and if giving The Son of Mars a child is how I serve him, so be it," she reasoned.

"This isn't Caesar's child, this is Titus'!" Athos barked.

"It doesn't matter who provides the seed! You're acting like a child!" Seekra snapped right back letting her agitation show through.

Athos collected himself and looked her in the eye. Despite being younger, he stood taller than the young woman, which pleased him but Athos didn't like to be considered young especially by Seekra.

At that moment Athos felt he had something to prove. Feeling intrepid, he leaned in to kiss the slave girl but she leaned away and quickly looked around to be certain no one had seen the gesture.

"Please Athos, I need to get back to work," she told him with her eyes locked on the ground to avoid his gaze.

Embarrassed and infuriated, Athos didn't say another word but turned and stormed off back to the Legionary shelters leaving Seekra to stare at his back.

Love was a dangerous thing in Flagstaff. Love would get a young Legionary crucified for overstepping his boundary. How could she not reciprocate his feelings for her? Not now. Athos respected her and her rejection would only make it worse for her. Did she know he'd never hurt her the way Titus had?

Athos looked back only for a second. Seekra still stood in the doorway of the Medical Tent and for that brief second, he thought he saw tears in her eye before he disappeared in the mess of tents.


	10. Chapter 10

For the next few months, Athos distanced himself from Seekra. Whether it was humiliation or anger on account of her rejection, she didn't know.

Despite Athos' ostracizing of her, his influence on her treatment by the other Legionaries hadn't gone unnoticed. Ever since the incident with Squeaker, rumours circulated of Athos' brutality. It was even speculated that he was a spy infiltrating the ranks for Caesar to detect traitors. His low rank in the grand hierarchy didn't seem to hold him back from going on some of the more advanced raids or missions. Decanus Sipher took a special liking to Athos and kept him close for nearly every operation.

Athos was feared. He continued to spend most of his off time training and conditioning his body. He was becoming proficient with some of the more advanced weapons like power fists and even small arms that Decanus Sipher permitted him to train with.

As Seekra would make her rounds checking on the well being of the ranks, she'd often catch a glimpse of him training. If she didn't know the soft, kind young boy that was kept well hidden inside him, she'd be afraid of him too. Even Titus developed a slightly apprehensive demeanor when it came to dealing with Athos. In the beginning, Athos had shown great interest in Seekra and anyone with common sense knew to stay away from her or one day suffer Athos' wrath. It was only a matter of time before he would be promoted to Prime and there was no doubt in anyone's mind he'd be a Decanus if he stayed on his current path.

Seekra began to wonder if Athos would ever regain the confidence to speak to her again. His blatant avoidance of her was starting to become more hurtful. He even stayed away when she gave birth to a healthy baby boy Caesar named Alexus.

Seekra didn't mind the name. A boy needed a strong name to survive in Flagstaff and Alexus was just fine. She was just thankful her child had been a boy. He had the best chance for a good life in The Legion.

The birth had been a joyous occasion celebrated by many in Flagstaff. Another absent individual had been the child's father, Titus much to the satisfaction of Seekra. The infant had been the first to be born in over a year. It gave new hope that The Legion would be self sustaining if Caesar continued to allow basic prenatal care.

Alexus would be permitted to stay with his mother for the first four years. After that he would be separated from her and raised in a common nursery. At five, training would begin with Lion and all ties to one's mother were completely cut off. That's just the way it was.

Seekra certainly had her hands full. She already had the responsibility of raising Dead Sea who was now three years old. With a brand new infant, she barely had time to dwell on the finicky friendship between her and Athos.

The days were growing shorter. Winter was coming and the capital was making the necessary preparations for the long cold months. It never snowed in Flagstaff but the temperature would drop to just above freezing at night. Come the month of November, it rained for nearly three days straight and all of Flagstaff was flooded under a few inches of water. The Decanii had no choice but to cease training for those few days while the water issue was sorted out. All Legionnaires were ordered to start sandbagging the higher officer's quarters and dig small trenches to drain the worst hit areas.

Luckily for Athos and his group, they were once again on another raiding mission far from Flagstaff leaving Aramis and her Centuraie behind to deal with the capital's failing infrastructure. It was miserable work. Many of the men were falling sick with afflictions from over exertion, weather, and exposure all mixed with the poor sanitary conditions that came with so much water like mould and bacteria.

Aramis, along with Brash, Leaf, and Deegan were tasked with filling sandbags around the main Headquarters tent.

"Will it just stop fucking raining!" Leaf spat angrily as he dug his shovel into the soft clay and scooped another load into the burlap bag. Leaf, had always remained a grey man in the ranks even as a Veteran. Neither overtly skilled in any one tactic nor inherently keen, he blended well with the Legionaries. Regardless of his lack of prominence, he was liked but just about everyone. Leaf had lost all his hair in his teens. His eyes were very dark which often made his pupils look gigantic. His first fight in the Bull Ring resulted in a blow to his face and the loss of teeth in the right side of his mouth. It also left his nose permanently canted to the left. Even if he shaved that morning, his face would be covered with stubble by noon. Despite his beaten appearance, Leaf was still quite attractive.

Deegan had been one of Lion's trainees alongside Aramis. He was a few years older then Aramis and they were never partnered with one another back when they were kids. Deegan was a smart young man. He never spoke unless he could contribute something intelligent to the conversation. He was never overly kind but he didn't go out of his way to be cruel either. He spoke in a monotone and Aramis often joked with the others he was one of those rumored cyborgs. He'd interject with sound logic that a cyborg couldn't grow or age, which led to more chuckles from the group that Deegan couldn't just let things brush off the shoulder.

Deegan had grown into a handsome man of twenty with sandy blonde hair well-groomed and tamed and pale hazel eyes. He rarely smiled which was a shame cause he had a nice smile with perfect teeth. Unlike like comrades he wasn't riddled with scars or any other battle blemishes. He was tall, toned and lean. Even with Aramis' relentless badgering, the two got along seemingly well like they balanced each other out.

Suddenly a familiar face emerged from the headquarters tent. Aramis looked up to see the stern yet calm soft smile of the Legate.

It had been quite some time since Aramis had any contact with the Legate. Her integration into the ranks made their casual encounters rather rare. The passage of books had to cease as well in case her leaders caught her with the contraband. Aramis missed the days when she'd sneak off as a child and go through his stash of literature picking works well beyond her years.

At sixteen, Aramis was not a child anymore yet that didn't stop her from testing the waters a little with him. So long as no one witnessed her actions, she'd often make funny faces from across the training area at him or sometimes a throwing knife would find it's way a little too close but never intended as a malicious action. He'd often shake his head or even chuckle slightly at the youth's upbeat playfulness. It was something he wished he still had at times.

As the Legate drew near the Legionaries snapped to attention crossing their fists over their chest.

"Legate," they all spoke in unison except Aramis who was a fraction behind them.

"Aramis, glad to see your skills being put to good use," the Legate mused sarcastically as he came to stand with the group filling sandbags.

"Gotta keep the higher's feet dry," Aramis spoke back with mild teasing. She couldn't help but let the corners of her mouth rise into a spirited grin.

"I see they have even the Veterans out shovelling mud," the Legate added seeing Brash and Leaf. His brow raised and he folded his arms across his chest. Despite the heavy rain still coming down, the Legate did not seem to mind standing in the open, getting drenched.

"There's more raindrops then manpower at the moment, my Legate," Brash spoke up respectfully. "Every man is needed right now to keep the camp from becoming a sea."

The Legate nodded and eyed Aramis, who was now making obscene gestures involving her mouth and her shovel handle from behind the group, with a coy sneer.

"Carry on then," the Legate said casually walking past the group trying to keep from snickering.

Aramis watched him continue on towards the War Tent. The full moon would be in a couple days and she'd finished the last book he'd given her. She eagerly anticipated the next one.

Being in the ranks meant their transition of literature was much easier. No one seemed to care that she read so long as she kept up with her training. Everyone knew reading anything that wasn't tactics was not allowed but no one actually enforced it.

"I think that's the most that man has even spoken to me," Leaf spoke up with a childish grin.

"Shut up and keep digging," Brash barked good-humoredly and the Legionaries went back to filling their sandbags without further interruption as the rain cratered the ground all around them.

When spring arrived, Caesar sent out wave after wave of raiding parties. It had been a cold winter and many had been lost from illness and exposure. The ranks needed to grow and the assimilation of a tribe in Utah brought with it the largest amount of Captures to be taken in years.

Athos and Aramis had been in Flagstaff waiting for their turn to be sent out again when a group was led into the capital by another one of Brutus' Decanus'.

"Wow, that's a lot," Athos murmured from beside his sister.

"Apparently they didn't put up much of a fight. Many of the tribes out in the wastes aren't even trying to defend themselves. Many just give up and let us waltz in and take over," Aramis informed.

"What's the fun unless a bit of blood can be spilt," Athos groaned fidgeting with the machete on his hip.

"Not everything requires a slit throat," Aramis teased.

"It sure is more fun though," Athos countered.

Aramis let her brother have his sick thrills and watched the Captures be sorted into their respected positions when she suddenly caught eyes with a young boy. He was frail and weak. Clearly the march to Flagstaff had taken a toll on him. He stood alone while many of the children brought in clung to mothers.

The boy's feet were in shoes too small for his feet and several toes popped out the end. His face was blistered from sun exposure and he looked as though he would keel over at any second.

Without hesitation, Aramis approached the boy and handed him her water bladder.

"Here," she said calmly.

The boy's eyes shot up at hers and he glared with unsubtle hatred. He shifted his head away, ignoring her gesture of offering.

"Aramis…." Athos' voice called to her with a warning tone.

Aramis ignored her brother and took a knee in front of the boy.

"You've proved your tough to have survived the march here. Don't prove you're stupid now and reject water when you clearly need it," Aramis spoke in a friendly nurturing manner.

The boy didn't waver. He continued to look off, starring at nothing so long as he didn't bring his eyes back to the Legionary in front of him.

Aramis held out the bladder once more and shook it letting the water splash around so he could hear it.

"You sure?" she asked.

"Get away from me you paedophile faggot," the boy suddenly jeered harshly not letting his voice carry beyond her ears.

This shocked Aramis and she stood suddenly. She was in her right to beat the child to death but the repercussions would be severe.

It took every ounce of moral fibre to restrain her aggression. After several drawn out seconds she stood and glared at the boy letting her anger slip away and pity take over.

"One kind gesture in a place like this is as common as a flower growing from a rock. You'll be wise to lose the attitude. The next person you try that tone with will crush your skull without leniency," she spoke sharply before turning and leaving the boy to whatever fate this place had install for him.

"You could have gotten in a lot of trouble for the stunt," Athos warned as his sister came over.

"Remember how terrified we were when we got here? Had just one person came up to me and said one nice thing it may have made a lot of the pain melt away," Aramis told him.

"Geez, you sound like a girl," Athos mocked.

Aramis shot him a cold glare and the two of them strode back to the Fly Trap.

"You going on another mission?" Aramis asked.

Athos sighed.

"We leave in a few hours," he told her.

Aramis stopped and glowered at her brother. Her fists tightened up and she turned a brilliant hue of red.

"When were you going to tell me?!" she barked.

"I just did!"

"You haven't even been back three days," Aramis groaned.

"This is a big one. Decanus Wynn and Sipher are taking charge together. Some gang has been picking off the smaller parties heading towards New Reno and Caesar wants them completely eliminated," Athos informed.

"And two sections will be enough?" Aramis questioned folding her arms over her chest. "Those gangs aren't just mindless tribals and I'm pretty sure they are supplied by some of the families of New Reno.

"When have we encountered anything we haven't been able to handle?" Athos rebutted but he looked slightly perplexed. He raised a brow and scratched the stubble on his chin.

"What makes you think the families are supplying the gangs?" he asked inquisitively.

"Common sense," she teased. "And it's not all the families. It must be the ones that have opposed Caesar from the start. They have it pretty good on their little strip. They are the lawmen and the criminals. They don't want some super power coming in and taking a cut of their profit."

Everyone in the Western Wastes knew of the criminal families of New Reno, the Mordinos, the Bishops, the Wrights, and the new aggressors, the Van Graffs. The feuds and corruption spilling into the streets of New Reno had been going on for decades. The power shifted as frequently as the changing of the seasons. New Reno was a festering cesspool of gambling, drinking and prostitution. Caesar ensured his ranks never ventured too close to the city. It was a place of sin that could draw out desertion in even the strongest willed legionary.

"But the gangs give the families just as much trouble," Athos pointed out.

"Hardly. They are the lesser of two evils in the eyes of whoever is fronting the attacks. By siding with the gangs, they are ensuring they keep the power with much less cuts to their revenue. Sixty percent of something is better than zero percent of nothing," Aramis informed.

Athos thought about this for a while. It made sense even if it seemed impossible. The petty gangs had always been a thorn in the family's side but surely the threat of a hostile take over by Caesar was enough for the families to put bygones aside, team up and turn to the real threat on their doorstep.

"So who do you think is supplying the gangs?" Athos asked,

"Fuck if I know. I'm sure Caesar will find out in time and we'll eliminate them once the truth is uncovered," Aramis muttered nonchalant.

Athos could never figure how Aramis came up with these theories but he was curious to see if her logic was sound. Only time would tell.

"Just watch yourself out there, ok?" Aramis tried. "Is Reed going with you?"

Athos nodded.

"I watch his back now!"

Aramis didn't look entirely convinced. She knew Athos was making quite the name for himself but he was still her twin brother and she was allowed to worry.

"I'll be fine," he assured her.

Aramis watched as her brother ascended up the step of his shelter and disappeared inside. With a heavy sigh she too went to her sleeping quarters to prepare for her day's tasks.

XXX

Small party raids kept Aramis busy for the next few weeks but when she returned to Flagstaff, she was determined to see how Lion's new hopefuls were doing. It had been ages since she ventured down to The Den for a visit.

The children were already out in the training area with their makeshift weapons beating on each other with little mercy. Zen walked around the group watching the younger ones do battle and provided criticism when his trained eye called for it.

When he saw Aramis strolling towards him his face lit up and he abandoned the developing killers.

The two embraced in a firm hug and pats on the back.

"It's been a while!" Zen exclaimed.

Aramis was pleased to see her friend and fellow tribal. He was just a few months away from his own trials. This concerned Aramis cause Zen was still one of the weakest recruits to come from Lion's training but she had hope he'd find his place.

"How have things been?" she asked.

"Training hard. There are a lot more children training now so I have a lot of new meat to practice on," he told her with optimism.

Aramis forced an uneasy smile. Zen was older then most of the children by a lot and she could only assume they did little to prepare him for real combat.

"Is Lion around?" she asked.

"He's in the tent. The sun takes its toll on him more and more each day," Zen told her letting his concern show through. His mouth pulled to the left and his eyebrows furrowed.

She placed a hand on Zen's shoulder and gave him one last firm pat before moving on towards the tent. As she moved passed the training area she caught sight of the boy she had offered water to some weeks ago. He was small for his age and skinnier then the other children. He wasn't fairing to well in his one on one training with a partner nearly double his size. The bigger boy was relentless with his barrages on the smaller boy. The small boy was bleeding from his nose and lip and both eyes were swollen, puffy, and black.

Aramis sighed and changed direction heading towards the training area.

When she stepped into the ring all training ceased and little heads bowed respectfully as the Recruit made her way across to the small boy.

The larger boy grinned from ear to ear seemingly pleased with his brutal assault on the child. He was certain Aramis wouls condone his strength but Aramis simply moved him to the side so she could be closer to the small boy.

Behind his bruised face she could make out the fear and pain in his light brown eyes. His short and nappy dark brown hair was crusted with dry blood.

Aramis shook her head and extended her hand.

Reluctantly, the small boy placed his fighting stick in her hand. It weighed nearly as much as he did. No wonder he couldn't defend himself.

"Why go for this weapon?" she asked examining the poor craftsmanship in such a simple weapon.

"It's all I know how to make," the child murmured not letting his eyes meet hers.

Aramis smirked and looked around at all the gawking faces staring at them.

"Back to training!" Aramis snapped and all the boys went back to fighting one another ignoring the activity going on between Aramis and the small boy.

"You proved you can take a beating but now you need to prove you can fight back. You're not going to beat anybody up with a heavy, piece of crap stick," she told him.

She unsheathed her machete that had been clinging to her waste and began to unravel the bands that held the scrap metal to the hilt. Once the piece of metal was free she broke his stick and attached it to the hilt. With the same bands, she tied the wooden fragment to the hilt and created a small dagger like weapon.

"This should fair better," she told him handing the object over to the small boy who accepted the gift wearily.

"Will I get in trouble?" he asked.

At that moment Aramis caught movement behind her and turned coming face to chest with the mammoth man behind her. Lion stood with arms crossed and face glowering.

With a playful smirk, Aramis turned back to the boy.

"Let me deal with the animal," she told him with a kind smile. She then turned and wrapped her arms around her mentor who pulled her in tight.

"I was wondering when you'd have time to come down and pay me a visit!" his voice boomed in Aramis' ear. "How you been kiddo? I see you installing your wisdom onto my boys."

"I don't even have time to take a shit," Aramis began cheerfully. "You're youngins' have a long way to go if they think they'll hack it with the big boys."

"I use to think the same of you," Lion teased.

The two left the training area to continue their conversation with more privacy.

"Who's the runt?" she asked.

"That one? I called him Vulpes. Reminds me a lot of you actually. First night I caught him sitting up in bed eating stolen food from the mess tent. He's a sly one but he just can't hold his own in a fight," Lion informed. "Doesn't talk much. The others seem to pick on him too. His parents were killed in the assimilation and it seems he is the lowest on the totem pole but that little stunt you just pulled may have done him some good."

"Hope so," Aramis muttered feeling pity for the boy.

"How's your brother doing? Stories of his actions make their way even out here," Lion told her.

"He's the super Legionary," Aramis grunted.

"You'll make your mark your own way, you'll see," Lion assured her. "No problems with anything else?"

"Nothing. It's all too easy," Aramis informed with a smirk.

"Don't be cocky. One slip and…."

"I know Lion. I'm always careful," she guaranteed.

Lion snorted and punched her in the shoulder sending her writhing backwards.

"Don't be a smart ass," he joked.

Aramis rubbed her shoulder and chuckled.

"How's the leg?" she asked.

Lion tapped his knee and gave her a thumbs up.

"Attached," he mused.

Aramis rolled her eyes letting her smile grow.

"I better head back. Brash always has me doing random things for him around this time. I'll see you again soon, ok?" she promised.

Lion pulled her into a tight bear hug once more.

"Look after yourself, kiddo."

Something was wrong.

Aramis rose from her cot looking around the dimly lit shelter. Dawn's light cast an eerie glow that painted haunting shadows on the pine wood walls. The air was stale and choked with dust. Aramis kicked off her light, animal skin throw blanket and laced up her boots. She always slept in the sleeve that pressed in her chest and a loose T-shirt. She threw on her training armour and hurried out of the tent. There was a lot of commotion going on around the camp for such a casual morning.

The moment she left the shelter she knew something was up. Too many people were awake for this time of morning. Small groups clustered together and whispers combed through the air. Aramis looked around but she couldn't see what was drawing so much attention.

"What's going on?" she asked as she approached a few Legionaries in her cohort.

"Decanus Wynn was killed. Raiders ambushed the raiding party before they got even close to New Reno. Decanus Orion and Bedic went to the Headquarters to receive a Sit-Rep. We're hoping they will pass on some info," one of the Legionaries spoke up.

Aramis was stunned. Decanii rarely fell in combat especially one as battle hardened as Wynn.

"What of the two sections?" Aramis asked getting slightly more anxious knowing that Athos was part of that group.

"There were some injuries but they retreated before casualties mounted I heard," the Legionary replied.

Aramis nodded and took off frantically towards Decanus Siphers' housing unit for his section. Suddenly there was a grab for her arm but she was running too quickly to be grasped fully. Feeling the fingers slide over her skin she stopped and spun around.

"Aramis! You need to come with me!" Reed ordered, his voice trembling. He was covered in blood and his armour was cracked down the middle. He looked as though he hadn't slept in days and Aramis was sure he had more grey hair now then he did before he left despite being so young.

"What? Why? Where is Athos!?" she ordered.

"He's alive but you need to come with me," he told her trying to ease her mind a bit.

"How bad is it?!" she demanded to know as the two of them weaved through the shelters towards the medical tent.

"It's not good," Reed spoke honestly.

Aramis said nothing more, focusing only on getting to her brother's side as quickly as possible.

She threw back the tent flap and shielded her eyes from the blinding white lamps that shone brightly while slave women dashed back and forth barking out orders at one another.

Aramis looked around the med tent trying to spot her brother. Each makeshift gurney had a body lying on top of it. Some had sheets draped over completely, hiding the face of those who were already gone. Some of the sheets still moved or voices called out in agony from beneath them but the slave women here had their hands full with the ones they knew they had the best chances to save. Some would just have to be ignored until they too joined the motionless ones.

There were a large group of women huddled around a young man with dark ashen blonde hair crusted with blood.

"Athos!" Aramis cried out and pushed some of the slaves out of the way so she could see her brother. His eyes were closed but Aramis could feel the warmth in his hand when she held it. His chest rose and fell with shallow gasps and Aramis could see clearly what had done this.

A massive laceration carved its way down his chest from his left shoulder to his right hipbone. Aramis didn't know how deep the wound went. It had already been stitched and the slave women were now applying sterile dressings.

"Aramis," came the soft gentle voice of Seekra who stood across from Aramis looking at her with empathetic and tear filled eyes.

Aramis looked up at her and felt her own eyes begin to well up.

"I'm doing everything I can, alright?" Seekra assured her.

Aramis nodded slowly. She didn't want to release her brother's hand but she knew she was in the way of the medical attention he desperately needed.

She backed away and felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Reed still offering his support.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Come outside," Reed told her leading her out of the medical tent so the two could engage in their conversation in peace.

"It had been an ambush right from the start. We travelled along the main road a few miles East of New Reno when we took on heavy fire. They used bombed out cars they had pushed off the road for cover. Took a lot of us down before our close range weapons could be utilized. There were too many of them for us to pick off. They had weird facial tattoos. Nothing I've ever seen before. Athos took an axe to the chest. He must have jumped back as the guy swung because it slashed him rather then bit in deep. The group that hit us took off back into the desert. That was about five days ago. We would have been here sooner but Decanus Sipher wanted us to pursuit. We never did catch up though. Decanus Sipher thought it best to leave the severely wounded but I knew you'd have killed me if I left your brother there so the guys and I took turns carry him home," Reed informed.

Aramis felt her blood boil. Her brother lay there for five days with an open wound and Decanus Sipher gave chase to a group when they had mounting casualties and were clearly outgunned and outmanned.

"What was he thinking?!" Aramis snapped.

"Huh?" Who?"Reed questioned.

"Sipher! What if they had been leading you into another trap?! What if ….."

"Aramis, lower your voice!" Reed warned but Aramis looked as though she was about to blow a gasket.

"He gives chase all the while my brother is clinging to life but he doesn't give a shit even though Athos has been following that man around like a good little dog obeying his every wish and he just disposes of him as if he were damaged goods!" Aramis howled, panting from her run on words.

"None of us expected him to make it all the way here, Aramis," Reed tried but there was no coaxing her down.

Aramis was pacing aggressively stirring up dust with each pounding step.

"Where is he?!" she demanded.

"What?!" Reed retorted anxiously.

"Where is Sipher!" Aramis spat.

"Aramis, no! Don't be so stupid!" Reed warned but Aramis was already making her way for the Headquarters tent where she knew Sipher would be conducting his debrief.

Reed wrapped and hand around her wrist and tried to pull her back but she yanked her arm free and took off full tilt for the tent.

Reed gave chase begging her to stop.

"They'll crucify you!" he called out but she ignored his counsel.

Without hesitation she pushed open the flap of the tent and glared at the faces inside. The men all stood around a rectangular table with a large-scale map in the center. To her surprise there were far less bodies in here then she had expected. Decanus Sipher was surrounded by various other Decanii and Centurions Brutus and Thoros. The Legate stood at the head of the table leaning over the map with arms outstretched to take his weight. His head shot up when he saw her and his brows raised in alarm.

She held her eyes on the Legate for only a second before she fixated on Decanus Sipher.

"You heedless, pathetic excuse of a man!" Aramis began. "How injudicious do you have to be before you realize what common logic is?! I am astounded that some one, such as myself, a lowly recruit has enough sagacity to know that what you did was completely reprehensible and reckless!"

The men stood in silent disbelief that this Legionary had the audacity to enter this tent and spew such … slander, if it was slander. None of them knew what she was really saying.

"Aramis!" Centurion Brutus roared but stood firmly in place. Aramis was after all, a part of his Centuria and for one of his members to show such blatant insubordination to another Centurion's Decanus was to directly humiliate the man who led her.

"I'm going to slit this little cocksucker's throat!" Decanus Sipher bellowed and he came at Aramis with premeditated malice.

"Hold," The Legate's words chimed in subtly. Instantly there was a shift in the room and all eyes were on The Malpais Legate whose own eyes were locked on Aramis. He was always on her side. Surely he would understand. He had groomed her to be a free thinker in a place that only condoned obedience.

"With Caesar indisposed for the next few days and not wishing to be disturbed, I am in charge of his affairs and that carries over to punishment," the Legate mused. "It has been many years since an act of blatant defiance has prompted such drastic reprimand but I think in a case such as the one we have all just observed, Decimatio is fitting. Let Aramis be cause and witness to what his shameful display brings unto his brethren."

Aramis' hostility was shattered when she heard the word. She had never seen the act carried out but she had heard horror stories of its use.

Centurion Brutus lowered his head. He too was being punished for allowing one of his own to have the boldness to come forward and harass the highers.

Aramis took a step back. This was a whole new extreme. There was no way the Legate would do this, would he? Suddenly Aramis wished Decanus Sipher had slit her throat because what was about to follow was far worse then anything they could ever do to her.

"Make the necessary preparations, Brutus. I think Aramis will enjoy watching from The Post, don't you?" he added and simply lowered his attention back to the map. "You may deal with your soldier now, Brutus."

Brutus came forward and grabbed Aramis by the neck of her armour and ushered her out of the tent.

"You'll wish you were dead by the time this is over. I give it three days before you hang yourself with your bootlaces for causing this!" Brutus spat in her ear.

He led her to a large wooden post sticking out of the ground with a short leather strap tied to it. He put her to her knees and bound her hands with the leather leaving just over a foot of distance between her and the post.

"The flies are bad this time of year," he grumbled and left her there to await the horror that was sure to follow in the coming hours.

It took all day for the order to come down and the necessary provisions be put in place.

A hundred men or so, all from Brutus' Centuria lined up in four ranks, twenty-five men across. They all stood facing Aramis and the highers who were present for the act. Brutus walked down each file counting to ten each time and ordering the tenth man to step forward. By the time he was done, ten men stood in front of the group.

What came next was something Aramis could have never prepared herself for. Each man was then sectioned off while other members of Brutus' Centuria beat him until they were dead. The screams and pleas for mercy were deafening. Bones crunched, skulls cracked and blood splattered the ground leaving no rock unpainted with deep sticky crimson. By the time it was over, ten bodies lay in a crumpled heap, their limbs in positions unnatural to the human form. Brains and other bodily matter lay strewn about the sand, baking in the sun, rallying flies to the putrid stench that wafted in the air.

Aramis looked upon the faces of the men she had just condemned to carry out the heinous deed. Their eyes listless and faces gaunt with suppressed sorrow. No one was proud of what they had just done. No one felt the sick thrill of beating his comrades to death. She would forever be blamed for committing them to this pain.

When it was all over they left her there, tied to the pole, letting the sun burn at her skin until it blistered and cracked. When the sun fell, she shivered as night brought cold air that nipped at her exposed flesh. For days she remained tied to the pole with no food or water. She lay at the base tucked in a ball trying to shield her body from the elements.

By day four she was certain she was going to die, that was until Reed snuck out to see her in the middle of the night and brought with her a canteen of warm water.

"Everyone must hate me," she croaked through cracked dry lips.

"Pretty much," Reed spoke softly bringing the canteen up for her to drink.

"Athos?" she asked fearing the worst.

"He's awake and they think he'll make a full recovery. He digs the scar," Reed told her with a waning smile.

The news seemed to lift what spirits she had left.

"I don't hate you," Reed spoke up letting her drink again.

"One ally in a sea of enemies isn't enough to keep me afloat," she jested.

"Give it some time, they may come around," Reed said, trying to sound optimistic.

"I'm going to be tied up here till I am nothing but a skeleton," Aramis informed.

"I'll bring you what I can. For now, hang in there," he promised. He let her take one last big gulp of water before closing the lid and left her to her isolation.

She lay on the ground, hands still bound with leather that cut into her skin thinking about the man that sentenced her to The Post. A man she had come to trust, respect, if not idolize from child to young adulthood.

How fickle his mercy was that he could pass his judgment without even showing the faintness glimpse of human decency. He truly didn't care that his words put the worst chastisement of all on her.

As she lay there she promised herself that if she lived through this, she would never allow herself to believe she was special. She was after all, just a lowly Legionary with nothing to gain and everything to lose. It was time to accept that she was nothing but a slave and slaves were above all else, obedient.

Had it not been for Reed keeping his promise to return to her side each night with just a little bit to get her through the following day, she would have died. By the time Decanus Bedic untied her from The Post she had the body of an elderly person. She had lost nearly fifteen pounds and her skin looked as though it was melting off her bones. She wasn't permitted to go to the medical tent. Training continued as though nothing had changed the very next day but everything had changed.

No one wanted to be partnered with her. When they spared, her comrades didn't hold back. She was beaten violently each time she stepped into the training area with them. Only Reed showed her blatant kindness when no one else did.

She was thankful to still carry his favour and knew he was harassed about it daily by the other Legionaries. Still, he remained on her side.

Every day that passed seemed to be one step forward, two steps back. She wasn't putting on the weight fast enough and each sparring session in the training area aggravated the injuries from the day before. No one was letting up or showing her any kindness or pity.

The day finally came when Zen passed his trials and was collected into Brutus' Centuria much to the delight of Aramis and Reed.

His inauguration meant another ally for Aramis and the chance that she could actually survive a few more weeks. Zen's presence was a blessing. He was delighted to be with his friends and was especially thrilled to be partnered with Aramis each day.

He ignored all the slander the other Legionaries spread and focused on bettering himself and getting her back into top form. Aramis was thankful to have him most of all. He was gentle with her and never took advantage of her shortcomings. Zen was thankful he had some one to spar with who wouldn't put him in the clinic after each session.

After a few long months, Zen was a noticeably improved fighter and Aramis had gained back most of her weight and her skin had its elasticity again.

What hadn't changed was her sections ostracizing of her. She wasn't taken on any raids or shown any favour. She was always given the worst tasking around the capital, which usually meant cleaning the latrines or shoveling sandbags on her own.

Athos on the other hand was greeted back into his Centuria like a war hero. He was promoted to Prime as everyone expected and bounced back fully from his nearly fatal injury. Every day his expectant words of encouragement left Aramis feeling more defeated and she wondered if he received any flak for being the brother of the shitpump.

Aramis reached her breaking point the day she came in from training and some on had stuck a rattlesnake in her bedspread. Now her so-called comrades really were trying to kill her. She knew something had to be done to gain back what favour she could but she didn't know how.

That night she lay in bed, minus one rattlesnake, when the thought came to her. She rose silently and swung her legs off the side. She dressed in nothing more then a ratty T-Shirt, her boxers and boots. She took the small trench knife from under her pillow and tucked it into her left boot. She stepped cautiously along the floor so not to wake anyone. She slipped unnoticed out the door, greeted by the night sky and lack of moon aiding in her concealment.

If there was one thing she was good at, it was sneaking about and she knew just how to go about this plan.

The next morning the section was a buzz of rumours. Everyone had their own story of what happened to Aramis. No one had seen her disappear in the night. Athos was called in for questioning but even he was unaware of her whereabouts, which made many question if she had been the first person to ever truly escape.

Days went by and it became clear the highers were chomping at the bit to answer the question of her absence. They could admit she escaped or lie and claim they killed the recruit and disposed of the body before anyone knew she was gone.

No story was ever affirmed right until the day a small figure appeared on the horizon. As if drew closer, the guard manning the observation tower on the wall reported a figure coming towards the gate dragging something behind them.

When the figure was in clear sight, and in range of the snipers, she raised her hands and got down on her knees waiting to be collected.

Decanii's Bedic, Orion, Sipher and the newly promoted Reed since the slaying of Wynn were all sitting down to breakfast when news spread like wildfire that Aramis had returned. All four rushed out of the tent.

"Get the Centurion!" Bedic suggested to his fellow Decanus, Orion.

Orion hurried off to find Brutus while the remaining three ascended up the tower to see what the guards had reported.

Sure enough Aramis remained off in the distance kneeling with her hands on her head, unwavering.

"What the …. hell is he … doing?!" Bedic stammered.

"Looks like he's brought something back," Reed pointed out trying to conceal his joy that she returned.

In an instant Centurion Brutus, who had brought Thoros along with him, joined the Decanii.

"You've got to be kidding me," Brutus groaned. "I thought we wrote that one off. Go out and see what he's got there and bring him into the camp. This time we'll make sure to cut off his legs before we tie him to The Post and really leave him there to die!" he ordered looking to Bedic.

Bedic exited the main gate making his way across the hot sand towards his deserter. As he drew near he was stunned to see what Aramis had been dragging behind her.

In the makeshift net she constructed from various debris, were the heads of nearly a dozen men all marked with facial tattoos.

"What are these!?" Bedic ordered.

"Heads," Aramis replied cheekly.

"I can see that! Whose heads?!" he demanded.

"The leaders of those Raiders responsible for the ambush on Decanus Wynn and Sipher's section on the road to New Reno," she informed.

Decanus Bedic was stunned.

"How did you….?" He questioned with his mouth gapping.

"I hunted them down like the vermin they are. They weren't hard to find and once I found them, then I separated their heads from their shoulders," she explained nonchalantly.

Bedic looked over his shoulder at the tower where the others remained waiting for his action.

"Come inside," Bedic ordered leading her into the capital allowing her to drag the net of heads in too.

"What the fuck is this!?" Brutus demanded when he approached Aramis.

"The heads of those Raiders who killed Decanus Wynn, my Centurion," Bedic informed.

Even Brutus looked taken aback.

"You killed them all?" he asked.

"Eight in total," she spoke back casually.

"And their parties?" he went on.

I killed who I could while getting to each leader but some were able to evade my knife," she answered.

"How many?" he asked.

"Thirty-one" she replied like it was nothing.

"How did you….."

"I'm patient and I'm good at hiding I guess," she said with a shrug. If they were going to kill her, at least she went out with some integrity claimed back. Surely this deed was quite remarkable.

"You are lying. You have to be lying," Orion accused.

Aramis shot him an icy stare.

"Can you think of a single raiding party whose leader isn't guarded by at least half a dozen jacked up dope fiends?" she asked with a snippet of arrogance.

Orion didn't object again.

Brutus eyed the young recruit with uncertainty.

"Deal with this," he said to Bedic as he collected the net of heads from Aramis and handed it to him. "Come with me," he spoke to Aramis ushering her forwards towards the Headquarters tent. "We are going to have a little chat….."


End file.
